BY-LAWS 


For  dBch  day  kept  o/er  the  above 
holdjf  will  be  subjeet/o  a  forfeit  of  _^jf 
a  work  of  one  vilume  be  injured 

e  same  to  be  made 

If  a  volume  or  m< 
injured  or  lost,  the 
be  pnicl. 

/   ^-V     ;,-    Ux"^ 

/^o  TOOK-  «'•:»  ^  I^»5?upd  l\  •' :<•  riOvciver.     • 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 


PRESENTED  BY 

PROF.  CHARLES  A.  KOFOID  AND 
MRS.  PRUDENCE  W.  KOFOID 


IN   AND   AROUND 


STAMBOUL. 


BY 


MES.   EDMUND    HOKNBY. 


The  European  with  the  Asian  shore 
Sprinkled  with  palaces :  the  ocean  stream, 

Here  and  there  studded  with  a  seventy-four ; 
Sophia's  cupola  with  golden  gleam  ; 

The  cypress  groves;  Olympus  high  and  hoar 
The  twelve  isles,  and  more  than  I  could  dream, 

Far  less  describe,  present  the  very  view 

Which  charmed  the  charming  Mary  Montagu.' 

BYRON 


PHILADELPHIA: 

JAMES    CHALLEN    &    SON, 

LINDSAY    &    BLAKISTON, 

NO.  25  SOUTH  SIXTH  STREET. 


CONTENTS. 


LETTER  I. 

PAGE 

Voyage  to  Calais. — Journey  to  Paris. — Arrival. — Soldiers. — 
Festivities.  —  Journey  to  Marseilles. — Valley  of  the 
Rhone. — The  Alps. — Avignon. — Embark. — Scene  on  Board. 
— Sisters  of  Charity. — An  Evening  on  Board 15 

LETTER  II. 

A  Night  at  Sea. —  Party  of  Nuns. —  Fellow-Passengers. — 
Corsica. — Music  on  Board .22 


LETTER  III. 

Arrival  at  Malta. — Sunday  Morning. — Ramble  through  Malta. 
— Feast  and  Church  of  St.  John. — Harbor  of  Valetta. — 
Return  on  Board.— "  The  Isles  of  Greece."— Capes  Mata- 
pan  and  St.  Angelo 30 

LETTER  IV. 

Syra. — A  Greek  Hostelry.— Pirates. — Evening. — Smyrna.— 
The  Bazaars.— Ramble  through  the  City.— The  Church.— 
The  Slave-Market.— The  Bashi-Bazouks.— Gallipoli.— The 
Dardanelles. — Approach  to  Constantinople. —  The  Bos- 
phorus.— Landing 39 

(3) 


4  CONTENTS. 

LETTER  V. 

PAGE 

Pera.—  English  and  French  Officers. — News  of  the  War. — 
Tlierapia. — Shores  of  the  Bosphorus. — Fall  of  Sebastopol. 
— Public  Rejoicings. — Sisters  of  Charity. — Illuminations.  49 

LETTER  VI. 

Therapia. — Its  pleasant  Climate. — Fleet  at  Anchor. — Beicos 
Bay. — Depth  and  Clearness  of  the  Waters  of  the  Bos 
phorus. — Phosphorescent  Illumination  at  Night. — Sad  In 
cidents  of  the  War. — Wounded  and  Sick  Officers  arrive 
from  Balaklava. — Their  Conversations. — The  Attack  of 
the  Redan 55 

LETTER  VII. 

Pleasant  Mornings  at  Therapia. — Greek  Fishermen  and  Feluc 
cas. — Sea-Birds,  and  Legend  of  the  "  Ames  Damnees." — 
Many-colored  Fish  of  the  Bosphorus. — Terraced  Gardens. 
— Ships  returning  from  the  Crimea. — The  Camp  at  Bu- 
yukdere 59 

LETTER  VIII. 

Valley  of  the  Sweet  Waters. — Picturesque  Groiips  of  Turk 
ish  Women. — The  Sultan's  Daughter. — Turkish  Belles 
and  Babies. — Turkish  Carriages. — Arabas  and  Telekis. — 
Vendors  of  different  Wares  in  the  Valley. — Boiled  Indian 
Corn. — Musicians. — Anatolian  Shepherd. — English  Sailors. 
—"Bono  Johnny."— The  Young  Pasha.— The  Valley  at 
Sunset 65 

LETTER  IX. 

f 

News  from  Home. — Invalids  from  Scutari  and  the  Crimea. — 
Chat  about  the  War. — Sardinian  and  French  Officers. — The 
Commissariat. — Scenery  of  the  Crimea. — Ramble  through 
the  Sultan's  Valley. — Ancient  Plane-Trees  and  Fountain. 
—Dinner  on  Board  the  "  Elba."— Buyukdere  at  Night  .  75 


CONTENTS.  O 

LETTER  X. 

PAGE 

Hospital  at  Therapia. — Its  Garden  and  Burial-Place.— Grave 
of  Captain  Lyons. — White  Cross  erected  in  Memory  of 
those  who  fell  in  the  Crimea ...  82 


LETTER  XL 

Beauty  of  the  Bosphorus. — Fishing- Village  on  the  Asian 
Shore. — Turkish  Cemetery  and  Graves  of  the  Janissaries. 
— Ruins  of  the  Castle  of  Anatolia. — Turkish  Soldiers  .  . 


LETTER  XII. 

Village  of  Kadikoi. — Sea  of  Marmora. — Landing  at  Pera. — 
Stamboul. — Its  Silent  Streets. — Behind  the  Lattice. — The 
Sultan. — His  Kind  and  Merciful  Disposition. — Desolate- 
ness  of  Constantinople. — Variable  Climate. — The  Turkish 
Loan. — Cholera  at  Yenekion 93 


LETTER  XIII. 

Palace  of  the  Sultan  at  Begler  Bay. — The  Bosphorus  after 
the  Attack  on  Sebastopol.  —  Difficulty  of  Transacting 
Business  with  a  Turkish  Ministry. — Wretched  State  of 
Turkish  Affairs. — Caiquejees,  their  Dress  and  Appear 
ance. — "Bono"  and  "no  Bono." — A  Proposed  Kiosk  at 
Orta-kioy .  104 


LETTER  XIV. 

Removal  to  Orta-kioy. — Voyage. — Rough  Sea. — Arrival. — 
Difficulties. — Armenian  Neighbors. — Fire-Guns  at  Night. 
— Rolf  of  Drums  and  Discharge  of  Musketry  at  the  Sul 
tan's  Palace  at  Daybreak Ill 

1* 


6  CONTENTS. 

LETTER  XV, 

PAGE 

Orta-kioy. — Servants. — Armenian  Ladies. — Workwomen. — 
Villagers. — House  and  Gardens. — Armenian  Cooking. — 
Village  of  Bebec. — Fruit  and  Food.— High  Prices. — Pera. 
— State  of  Crime 119 

LETTER  XVI. 

Winter  on  the  Bosphorus. — Our  Armenian  Neighbors. — 
Questions  and  Answers. — Turkish  Regulation  of  Time. — 
The  Winter  Theatre  in  the  Crimea. — Zouave  Modistes  .  130 

LETTER  XVII. 

Death  of  Mrs.  Willoughby  Moore. — Funeral  of  a  French 
Soldier.— Our  Turkish  "Allies."— Turkish  Venality.— 
Pashas. — Their  Luxury  and  Dishonesty. — The  Cadi. — 
Turkish  Character 136 

LETTER  XVIII. 

Our  Greek  Cook.— Calliope's  Despondency. — Troubles  in 
the  Kitchen. — Approach  of  Winter. — The  Sultan's  Visit 
to  the  Mosque. — A  Maltese  Dog .  .  147 

LETTER  XIX. 

Christmas-day  at  Constantinople.— Beauty  of  the  Bosphor 
us. —  Crowd  of  Vessels. — Mysseri's  Hotel. — Tales  of  the 
Crimea. — The  Greek  Christmas. — Christmas  Dinner  at  the 
Embassy. — Miss  Nightingale. — Christmas  Games  .  .  .152 

LETTER  XX. 

Greek  Servants. —  Calliope's  Scheme. —  Kneeling  to  ^the 
Saints. — Lying  Propensities. — Domestic  Life. — Greek  and 
Turkish  Character  .  ....  165 


CONTENTS. 
LETTER  XXI. 


PAQB 


New-Year's  Eve. — Housekeeping. — Discussing  Prices. — A 
Greek  Laundress. — New  Year's  Morning.— Seclusion  of 
the  Turkish  Women. — The  Cemetery. — The  Persian  Em- 
bassador.— Ball  at  the  Embassy 170 


LETTER  XXII. 

Eastern  Civilization.— The  Reforming  Sultan.— The  Le 
vantine  Population,  their  Ignorance  and  Pretension. — 
Early  Flirtations. — Large  Families.— A  Levantine  Young 
Lady 131 

LETTER  XXIII. 

New-Year's  Day. — Costumes. — Greek  Women. — Revels. — 
Visit  to  an  Armenian  Family. — Vassili. — Interview  with 
a  Bashi-Bazouk.— Villagers.— Turkish  Children  .  .  .188 

LETTER  XXIV. 

Winter  Life  on  the  Bosphorus. — Armenian  Bishop. — Bill  of 
Fare. — The  Piano-forte. — Cures  for  Neuralgia. — Wrecks 
from  the  Black  Sea. — Poor  Jews 199 

LETTER  XXV. 

Going  to  a  Ball. — The  Teleki. — Journey  to  Pera. — Monu 
ments. — Administration. — Dolma  Batche. — Bad  Roads. — 
Cemetery  at  Pera. — Cypresses. — Soldiers. — Illuminations. 
— Ball  at  the  Embassy. — The  Sultan. — Chief  of  the  Eu 
nuchs. — A  Bear  at  the  Ball. — Espinu's  Enthusiasm  .  .  206 

LETTER  XXVI. 

The  Sultan's  Dinner. — Turkish  Hospitality. — The  Embassy 
Balls. — The  Sultan. — Assassinations.— The  Weather  .  .  227 


CONTENTS. 


LETTER  XXVII. 

PAOE 

The  French  Embassador's  Ball.— Dinner  Party. — The  Sul 
tan's  Visit. — French  and  English  Belles. — Pashas  at  the 
Ball.— A  Fire.— A  Russian  Prisoner  .  .  231 


LETTER  XXVIII 

Shepherds. — Flocks. —  The  Greek  Lent. —  News  from  the 
Crimea. — Turkish  Cemetery. — The  Village  of  Orta-kioy. 
—An  Armenian  Burial. — Funeral  of  a  Child 236 

LETTER  XXIX. 

Visit  to  the  Harem  of  Riza  Pasha. — News  from  England. — 
Ladies  of  Stamboul. — Chief  of  the  Eunuchs. — Interior  of 
the  Harem. — Dresses  of  the  Ladies. — Circassian  Beauty. 
— Dresses. — Hospitality  in  the  Harem  .  .  .  .-  .  .  .  245 

LETTER  XXX. 

The  Franks. — Arrival  of  Spring. — Ladies'  Dresses. — Change 
able  Climate. — Omar  Pasha  and  the  Relief  of  Kars. — 
Knavery  of  the  Pashas. — The  Greek  Easter. — Festival- 
days  at  Constantinople. — Change  for  a  Sovereign. — A 
Lonely  House. — A  Storm 266 

LETTER  XXXI. 

Wintry  Weather. — News  of  the  Peace. — The  Rejoicings. — A 
Visitor  from  the  Crimea. — Crimean  Amusements. — Let 
ters  from  Home 275 

LETTER  XXXII. 

Excursion  to  Princes'  Islands. — Scenery  of  the  Bosphorus. 
— Priiikipo. — Visit  to  a  Convent. — The  Ancient  Chapel. — 
Curiosities. — Carvings  and  Pictures. — Beauty  of  the  Is 
land. — Return  in  the  Dark. — A  Night  on  Board  ....  279 


CONTENTS. 
LETTER  XXXIII. 


PAGE 


Shores  of  tlie  Bospkorus. — Tomb  of  Barbarossa. — Antiqui 
ties. — Dress. — "Apple-Blossom." — Sympathy  in  Misfor 
tune.— Schooling. — Greek  Names 287 

LETTER  XXXIV. 

Tea-Party. — Visit  of  a  Turkish  Gentleman. — Morals  in  Tur 
key. — Pashas. — The  Sultan. — Fashion  of  Learning  Music. 
— Troubles  of  a  Music-Master  in  the  Harem. — Flowers. — 
Jasmine-sticks. — Pipes. — A  Village  Burnt 293 

LETTER  XXXV. 

Excursion  to  the  Crimea. — Wild  Dogs.— Fleas. — Invasion 
of  Rats  and  Mice. — Encounter  with  a  Spider. — Gardening.  302 

LETTER  XXXVI. 

Return  from  the  Crimea. — Commencement  of  the  Fast  of 
Ramazan. — Protestant  Church. — Return  of  the  Army. — 
The  Peace 308 

LETTER  XXXVII. 

Start  for  the  Crimea. — The  Bosphorus. — A  Swell  on  the 
Black  Sea. — Pleasures  of  the  Voyage. — Harbor  of  Balak 
lava. — Changes  accomplished 311 

LETTER  XXXVIII. 

Landing  at  Balaklava. — Colonel  Hardinge. — Russian  Gover 
nor's  House. — A  Prisoner  of  War. — Heights  of  Balaklava. 
—Miss  Nightingale's  Hospital.—"  The  Sisters."— Flowers. 
— Souvenir  of  the  Governor 317 

LETTER  XXXIX. 

Balaklava.— The  Camp.— The  Battle-field.— Visit  to  the 
Malakoff  and  the  Redan. — Botanizing. — Baidar. — Return 
from  the  Crimea .  324 


10  CONTENTS. 


LETTER  XL. 

PAOE 

Visit  to  a  Turkish  Harem — The  Garden. — The  Children. — 
Scenes  in  the  Garden .  335 


LETTER  XLI. 

Fast  of  Ramazan.— Turkish  Nationality.— The  Sheik-Zadi. 
— End  of  the  Fast. — Preparations. — Illumination  of  the 
Mosques.— Kara-Goz,  the  Turkish  "Punch."— Firemen  .  343 


LETTER  XLII. 

Celebration  of  the  Queen's  Birth-day. — The  Fcte-Dieu. — Il 
luminations. — "The  Night  of  Destiny." — The  Sultan's 
Visit  to  the  Mosque  of  Tophana. — Night  of  Prayer. — 
Prince  Murad 352 

LETTER  XLIII. 

A  Sail  on  the  Bosphorus.— The  ' '  Belle  Poule. '  '—Strawberry- 
Gardens. — Last  Day  of  Ramazan 358 

LETTER  XLIV. 

End  of  Ramazan. — Illuminations. — Night. — Palaces  on  the 
Bosphorus. — Feast  of  Bairam. — Torchlight  Procession  of 
the  Sultan. — Ceremony  in  the  Mosque  of  Tophana  .  .  .  361 

LETTER  XLV. 

A  Stroll. — The  Bosphorus. — Turkish  Arsenal. — Suburbs  of 
Constantinople. — Poverty  in  the  East. — Kiosks. — Storks. 
— Turkish  and  Greek  Dresses. — Scenes  on  the  River. — 
The  Sweet  Waters.  — Scenes  on  Shore. — The  Sultan's 
Kiosk. — The  Sultana  and  her  Daughter. — Evening  Scene. 
—Return  from  the  Sweet  Waters  .  .  .  366 


CONTENTS.  11 

LETTER  XLVI. 

PAGE 

Thunder-storm. — Return  of  Troops. — The  Commission   .     .  386 

LETTER  XLVII. 

Education  of  Turkish  Women. —  Rearing  of  Children. — 
Want  of  Instruction. — Books. — Thoughts  of  Home. — The 
Climate.— Relics  from  the  Crimea 389 

LETTER  XL VIII. 

The  Princes'  Islands.— The  "Edith  Belina."— Signer  Gia- 
como. — Church  on  the  Island 395 

LETTER  XLIX. 

The  Sultan's  Banquet. — Turkish  Artificers.  —  Thunder 
storm. — 'Long  Days. — Vassili's  Misbehavior. —  Domestic 
Changes 398 

LETTER  L. 

Order  of  the  Medjidi. — The  Sultan's  Dinner-Party. — The 
Palace. — Thunder-storm. — "  Commissary  Joe." — Visitors 
from  the  Crimea 402 

LETTER  LI. 

Convent  of  Jesu  Christo. — Fishing  Excursion. — Bathing- 
house.— Early  Rising. — Island  of  Halki 409 

LETTER  LII. 

Erection  of  a  Church  in  Prinkipo. — Monastery  of  Halki. — 
Greek  Churches. —  A  Greek  Wedding. —  Bishops. —  The 
Patriarch. — Avenue  of  Cypresses  Illuminated. — Return 
Home .  414 


12  CONTENTS. 

LETTER  LIII. 

PAGE 

Excursion  to  Ismid.— Mountain  Scenery. — Islands. — Fish- 
ing  Villages. — Rambles  on  Shore. — Vegetation. — Island 
Scenery. — Insects  and  Fishes. — Return  to  Prinkipo  .  .  428 

LETTER  LIV. 

Therapia. — Greek  Village. — Roman  Reservoirs. — Service  on 
Board  Ship 444 

LETTER  LV. 

Climate  and  Scenery. — Paradise  of  the  Greeks. — Boating 
Excursions. — The  Monastery  of  St.  George. — The  Old 
Gardener. — His  Summer  Residence. — "The  Magyar." — 
Armenian  and  Greek  Ladies. — Greek  Homage  to  Beauty. 
— Burning  a  Caique. — Fishing  by  Night 447 

LETTER  LVI. 

Excursion  to  Maltape. — Greek  Women  and  Turkish  Cafa- 
nee. — Marble  Fountain. — An  Ancient  Tree. — The  Mosque. 
— The  Imaum. — Village  School. — Turkish  Women. — Cu 
rious  Lamp 459 

LETTER  LVII. 

Old  Churches  and  Monasteries. — Ancient  Manuscript. — 
Tomb  of  St.  George. — A  Picture  of  St.  George  and  the 
Dragon. — Donkey  Processions. — A  Greek  Beauty. — The 
Superior  of  the  Monastery. — Curious  Paintings. — A  Le 
gend. — Lunatics. — Tree-frogs 4t!8 

LETTER  LVIII. 

The  Lunatic  and  the  Priest's  Donkey. — Appeal  to  St.  Deme 
trius. — The  Lunatic  sent  Home 482 


CONTENTS.  18 

LETTER  LIX. 

PAGE 

Visit  from  a  Turkish  Lady. — Her  Taste  for  Music. — Her 
Nubian  Slave. — Exhibition  of  an  English  Gentleman. — 
Gratification  afforded  by  the  Spectacle 485 

LETTER  LX. 
Boatmen's  Songs. — Greek  Singing. — Specimen 489 

LETTER  LXI. 

Severity  of  Winter. — Life  in  a  Kiosk. — The  Golden  Horn 
frozen  over. — Wolves  and  Foxes. — Their  Murderous  In 
cursions. — Scarcity  of  Food  and  Fuel. — High  Prices. — 
English  and  Greek  Servants. — Death  of  Redshid  Pasha  .  495 


IN  AND  ABOUND  STAMBOUL. 


LETTER  I. 

VOYAGE   TO  CALAIS JOURNEY  TO  PARIS — ARRIVAL SOLDIERS FESTIVI 
TIES JOURNEY  TO  MARSEILLES VALLEY  OF  THE  RHONE THE  ALPS — 

AVIGNON EMBARK SCENE    ON     BOARD — SISTERS    OF    CHARITY AN 

EVENING   ON    BOARD. 

Paris,  August  24th,  1855. 

My  dear  Mother : 

We  left  London  about  half-past  seven  on 
Friday  evening,  and  arrived  at  Dover  at  eleven, 
There,  in  the  Basin,  lay,  with  its  huge  red  and  white 
lights,  the  steamer  which  was  to  take  us  to  Calais. 
It  seemed  to  me  an  effort  to  plant  myself  on  its  deck, 
to  be  taken  so  far  from  Edith  and  you  all.  Ma  die 
sard,  sard ;  and  it  is  as  well  to  do  it  with  a  stout  and 
thankful  heart. 

In  a  few  minutes  we  were  upon  the  broad  sea.  It 
was  a  lovely  starlight  night,  with  just  breeze  enough 
to  make  the  waves  look  beautiful.  Almost  all  the 
ladies  went  down  immediately  into  their  cabins ;  but 
I  seemed  spell  bound  to  the  deck,  thinking  over  our 
long  and  uncertain  journey,  and  saying  to  myself  over 
and  over  again :  "  Farewell,  England !  God  bless  you, 

(15) 


16  >  -AJN.  AND '-&ROUND  STAMBOUL. 

my  dearest  Edith!"  whom  I  thought  of  as  comfort 
ably  asleep  at  home. 

The  steamer  went  at  a  rapid  rate,  and  soon  the 
lights  of  Dover  sank  like  a  wreath  of  pale  stars  into 
the  broad  track  of  bright  foam  stretching  far  behind 
us.  Still,  to  my  comfort,  the  two  brilliant  ones  on 
the  cliff  showed  plainly,  and  still  I  could  say  that 
I  saw  England.  Soon,  however,  Edmund  pointed  out 
the  green  lamps  of  Calais  harbor ;  and  in  less  time 
than  we  were  in  the  "  Fairy,"  on  the  last  sail  we  took 
together,  we  found  ourselves  across  the  Channel.  The 
tide  was  low,  so  we  signalled  for  boats,  and  had  some 
time  to  wait.  While  walking  up  and  down  the  deck, 
I  could  distinctly  see  the  sea-lights  of  Dover,  and 
thought  how  ridiculous  it  is,  in  these  days  of  steam, 
to  fret  oneself  about  distance.  Presently  boats  dashed 
up,  manned  by  fine  strong  fellows;  and  a  different 
language  was  very  striking  to  one's  ear.  It  seems  so 
extraordinary  that  so  pleasant  a  two  hours  on  a  star 
light  sea,  and  with  England  positively  in  view,  can 
bring  you  to  so  different  a  people. 

We  had  a  delightful  run  on  shore,  the  men  singing 
cheerily  as  they  raced  with  the  other  boats.  We  soon 
gained  the  Pier,  where  the  ladies  were  politely  handed 
out  by  the  gravest  of  mustachioed  Frenchmen,  lan 
tern  in  hand,  wrapped  in  an  immense  cloak,  and  look 
ing  as  if  the  fate  of  the  whole  world  depended  upon 
himself. 

After  showing  passports,  etc.,  we  adjourned  to  the 
station,  where  we  were  fortunate  enough  to  meet 
Captain  Wright,  one  of  the  Queen's  Foreign  Service 
Messengers.  He  had  lived  for  some  time  at  Constan- 


PARIS.  17 

tinople,  and,  as  we  sipped  our  coffee  together,  gave  us 
some  very  plesant  chat  about  it. 

At  three  o'clock  in  the  morning  we  started  for 
Paris.  Our  talk  soon  became  rather  drowsy,  and  I 
was  so  tired,  and  the  carriage  so  deliciously  comfort 
able,  that  when  I  awoke  from  a  most  refreshing  sleep, 
dawn  was  peeping  under  the  blinds. 

Presently  I  looked  out  upon  the  corn  standing  in 
rich  sheaves — a  splendid  harvest.  Soon  the  country- 
people  began  to  appear ;  their  pretty  dresses  and  the 
gay  trappings  of  their  horses,  making  the  cornfields 
quite  a  picture.  Then  the  sun  burst  out  over  many 
villages  and  towns,  and  we  felt  like  poor  tired  owls 
in  the  bright  daylight  on  arriving  at  Paris. 

Nothing  can  exceed  the  splendor  and  gayety  of  the 
place  at  this  moment.  The  flags  and  triumphal  arches 
of  the  Queen's  visit  still  remain ;  the  people  are  flock 
ing  in  crowds  to  the  "  Exposition ;"  splendid  bodies 
of  troops  marching  hither  and  thither  through  the 
streets,  and  bands  playing  in  every  direction.  Tem 
ples  in  the  Champs  Elysees  are  illuminated  every 
evening,  and  filled  with  musicians.  Every  thing  to 
amuse  and  delight  the  people.  We  have  just  passed 
General  Canrobert,  mounted  on  a  white  charger,  and 
surrounded  by  a  brilliant  staff,  returning  from  escort 
ing  the  Queen  to  St.  Cloud.  He  was  much  cheered, 
and  bowed  good-naturedly  to  all. 


"We  arrived  at  Marseilles  on  the  evening  of  the  29th 
of  August.  We  had  been  charmed  throughout  the 
whole  day's  journey  with  the  wonderful  beauty  of  the 
Valley  of  the  Ehone.  There  you  have  every  thing  to 
delight  the  eye  at  once :  vineyards,  mountains,  valleys, 
2* 


IS  IN   AND   ABOUND   STAMBOUL. 

meadows,  gardens,  old  castles  and  towers,  savage 
lieath-land,  and  the  loveliest  cultivation  glowing  with 
purple  grapes,  melons,  peaches,  and  Indian  corn ;  the 
happiest  and  most  picturesque-looking  peasantry  in 
the  world ;  and  the  glorious  river,  with  its  little  is 
lands  of  snow-white  mountain  .sand,  winding  brightly 
through  all. 

Then  the  Alps  at  sunset,  shining  in  their  snow, 
far  above  the  drifting  rose- colored  clouds  which  hung 
on  the  dark  pine  woods — nestling,  as  it  were,  here  and 
there  in  their  vast  solitudes.  It  is  impossible  to  de 
scribe  one's  feelings  of  awe  and  delight  on  first  be 
holding  them. 

We  dined  at  Avignon.  The  heat  of  the  day  had 
been  intense  ;  and  with  exclamations  of  joy  the  thirsty, 
tired  passengers  of  a  long  train  rushed  into  the  station 
dining-room.  A  long  table  was  spread  in  a  large  cool 
room,  with  sweet  garden-flowers  peeping  in  at  each 
open  window ;  the  most  delicious  peaches  and  grapes, 
figs  and  melons,  in  baskets  trimmed  with  leaves  and 
roses,  all  down  the  table.  I  thought  that  even  Pe 
trarch,  ever  so  much  in  love,  must  have  one  day  eaten 
such  as  these  with  some  complacency. 

Excellent  soup,  fish,  partridges,  and  other  delicacies 
were  served  us  in  the  promptest  manner ;  and,  refreshed 
and  merry,  we  rushed  to  our  steaming  monster  again, 
and  left  Avignon  with  grateful  hearts. 

It  soon  became  dusk,  and  was  quite  dark  long  before 
the  train  arrived  at  Marseilles ;  but  by  an  occasional 
glimpse,  I  thought  the  coast  looked  very  fine.  In  the 
carriage  with  us  was  a  good-looking  young  French 
man,  "got  up"  in  the  most  exquisite  style,  who  had 
traveled  from  Marseilles  and  back  again,  just  for  the 


SCENE   ON   BOARD.  19 

chance  of  getting  a  peep  at  the  Queen  of  England  in 
the  streets  of  Paris ! 

"We  rested  comfortably  for  the  night  in  an  excellent 
hotel  at  Marseilles ;  and  after  breakfast  the  next  morn 
ing,  with  many  kind  adieus  and  many  a  wish  of  Bon 
voyage  from  our  host  and  fellow-travelers,  we  started 
in  a  little  open  carriage  (with  a  merry  ring  of  bells  to 
the  horses'  collars)  for  the  ship.  The  harbor  is  enor 
mous,  and  crowded  with  ships  of  all  nations.  Our 
guide  quickly  discovered  the  "Simois,"  a  fine  screw- 
steamer,  lying  alongside,  with  her  steam  up.  The 
crowd  was  very  great ;  sailors,  soldiers,  and  a  motley 
collection  of  many  nations  it  seemed,  bustling  about 
with  a  tremendous  amount  of  noise  and  shouting  in 
various  languages. 

The  heat  was  intense,  the  dust  extremely  painful, 
and  I  looked  through  forests  of  masts,  with  longing 
eyes,  at  the  sea. 

It  was  a  scene  of  the  greatest  confusion  on  deck. 
Troops  bound  for  the  Crimea  were  being  hurried  to 
the  fore-part  of  the  vessel.  The  hold  was  open,  its 
vast  recesses  half  filled  with  huge  packages  addressed 
to  Miss  Nightingale  at  Scutari,  and  to  the  army  in  the 
East  generally.  Immense  quantities  of  baggage  were 
being  added  every  moment ;  horses  were  being  stalled 
on  deck ;  and  people  making  hasty  farewells.  How 
ever,  all  was  finished  at  last ;  and,  as  the  ship  steamed 
slowly  out  of  harbor,  we  sat  down  to  the  breakfast,  and 
took  a  survey  of  our  fellow-passengers.  The  heat  was 
still  so  overpowering  that  we  were  soon  glad  to  get  on 
deck  again.  The  first  group  that  struck  us  there  was 
a  party  of  Sisters  of  Charity,  three  young  and  two 
elderly  ones.  The  steamer  was  going  at  a  rapid  rate, 


20  IN    AND   AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

and  the  fine,  many-colored  cliffs  of  France  already 
becoming  indistinct.  When  they  could  be  seen  no 
longer,  the  poor  young  nuns,  leaning  against  the 
side  of  the  vessel,  covered  their  faces  and  cried  bit 
terly.  Their  Superiors  (who  wore  massive  golden 
crucifixes  round  their  necks)  consoled  them  most 
kindly,  and  kept  frequently  saying,  "Courage,  my 
children  1" 

The  fore-part  of  the  vessel  was  crowded  with  French 
soldiers, — mostly  fine,  sturdy-looking  young  fellows : 
few,  I  should  think,  much  above  twenty. 

Many  of  them  seemed  greatly  depressed ;  but  it  was 
really  quite  a  lesson  to  see  how  cheerfully  they  put 
up  with  every  discomfort,  and  how  kind  and  obliging 
they  seemed  to  one  another — and  this  we  noticed 
throughout  the  voyage. 

"We  enjoyed  our  first  evening's  walk  on  deck  ex 
tremely.  Who  can  describe  the  lovely  blue  of  the 
Mediterranean  ?  The  sunset  had  been  very  fine,  and 
as  there  is  but  little  or  no  twilight,  the  innumerable 
stars  seemed  to  gleam  out  suddenly  in  the  clear  gray 
light,  mingling  sea  and  sky.  Not  a  sail  was  to  be 
seen,  and  we  were  running  before  a  fresh  gale. 

As  the  night  grew  darker,  we  watched,  by  the  side 
of  the  vessel,  the  beautiful  star-shaped  phosphorescent 
lights,  flying  fast  through  the  foam  with  the  prettiest 
effect  possible.  These  "  glow-worms  of  the  sea,"  as 
they  are  sometimes  called,  abound  on  fine  calm  nights. 
We  thought  of  you  all  in  England  as  the  ship  sped  on 
in  this  lovely  sea. 

The  bells,  fore  and  aft,  striking  the  hour,  sounded 
very  sweetly,  and  the  deck  began  to  get  quiet. 

The  poor  Crimean  soldiers  were  making  up  their 


AN   EVENING    ON    BOARD.  21 

rough  beds  for  the  night,  for  the  dew  began  to  fall 
heavily.  The  nuns  crept  softly  and  sorrowfully  below, 
poor  things ! 

Every  one  seemed  tired  and  weary  with  the  heat 
and  bustle  of  the  day.  Edmund  stayed  to  smoke  a 
cigar ;  while  I,  disregarding  the  charms  of  tea  without 
milk,  and  fresh-gathered  lemons,  was  soon  disposed 
of  comfortably  in  my  berth,  not  feeling  certain  in  my 
own  mind,  as  I  drew  its  tiny  white  curtains,  whether  it 
was  really  true  that  we  were  lying  down  to  sleep  on 
the  fair  but  treacherous  waters  of  the  Mediterranean ; 
and  really  true,  moreover,  that  we  were  on  our  way  to 
the  far-famed  city  of  the  East — Constantinople. 


LETTBE    II. 

A     NIGHT    AT    SEA — PARTY   OF    NUNS — FELLOW-PASSENGERS — CORSICA 

MUSIC   ON    BOARD. 

My  dear  Mother : 

I  slept  well  on  our  first  night  on  board  the 
"Simois,"  only  waking  now  and  then  to  hear  the  good 
ship  working  steadily  and  bravely  on.  At  sea,  in 
the  dark  hours  of  night,  one  thinks  of  the  many 
lives  resting  entirely  on  the  vigilance  and  skill  of 
those  who  watch  and  work  that  complicated  ma 
chinery. 

We  were  early  on  deck.  No  one  could  be  much 
disposed  to  laziness  in  fine  weather  on  this  most 
lovely  Mediterranean — its  blue  waves  and  glittering 
white  spray  dancing  in  the  morning  sun.  The  poor 
soldiers,  looking  pale  and  cold  from  the  night  air 
and  heavy  dew  to  which  they  had  been  exposed,  were 
packing  up  their  trifle  of  bedding,  and  marching  off 
to  breakfast.  The  nuns  were  sitting  in  their  old  place 
by  the  side  of  the  vessel ;  the  elder  ones  reading 
their  books  of  devotion,  as  calm  and  serene  as  usual 
— the  younger  ones  watching  the  bright  waves,  and 
looking  a  little  less  wretched  than  on  the  evening 
before. 

I  thought  at  first  that  they  must  be  going  to  the 
Crimea,  and  wondered  at  their  great  depression,  with 
so  much  usefulness  before  them;  but  when  I  heard 
what  was  their  dreary  destination,  I  was  no  longer 

(22) 


FELLOW-PASSENGERS.  23 

surprised.  Two  were  being  sent  to  a  small  French 
settlement  in  Algiers,  almost  in  the  Desert ;  and  in 
all  human  probability  would  never  see  France  or  their 
friends  again.  They  had  left  the  most  beautiful  part 
of  the  Valley  of  the  Ehone ;  and  there  was  a  crowd, 
we  were  told,  at  the  little  village-station  to  say  adieu, 
with  many  tears  on  both  sides.  How  often  we  have 
thought  of  these  poor  nuns,  and  wondered  how  they 
got  on  among  the  savage  Algerines  whom  they  are 
sent  to  convert ! 

At  breakfast  we  began  to  see  and  know  a  little  more 
of  our  fellow-passengers.  (I  write  these  details,  think 
ing  that  it  may  amuse  you  for  half  an  hour  to  read  a 
rough  sketch  of  a  voyage  eastward).  There  was  a 
French  lady  and  her  daughter  going  to  join  "papa" 
at  Scutari ;  Mr.  Moore,  Queen's  Messenger,  who,  curi 
ously  enough,  had  traveled  the  same  way  twenty -five 
years  ago  with  my  father,  and  lived  with  him  for  a 
month  at  Constantinople;  Mr.  ISTewall,  an  engineer, 
going  out  to  lay  down  an  electric  telegraph  from  Yarna 
to  Therapia  (which  they  say  is  greatly  needed  during 
the  war) ;  his  brother-in-law,  Mr.  Bell,  bound  on  the 
same  route,  for  amusement  and  sketching;  and  Herr 

S ,  who  traveled  for  some  months  every  autumn, 

saw  every  thing,  and  made  friends  with  every  one 
worth  knowing ;  an  extremely  handsome  young  Greek, 
returning  to  Athens  from  England,  who  spoke  to 
every  one  in  their  own  language  with  the  marvelous 
fluency  of  his  race ;  and  a  most  melancholy  French 
officer,  in  command  of  the  troops  on  board,  who  spoke 
to  no  one, — makes  up  the  list  of  the  first-class  pas 
sengers  ;  and  we  thought  ourselves  most  fortunate,  not 
only  to  meet  with  agreeable  people,  but  also  with  so 


24  IN   AND   AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

few  of  them,  as  the  mail-boats  are  usually  crowded 
since  the  war  began.  The  weather  too  was  glorious  ; 
such  a  delicious  breeze,  such  a  blue  sea  and  sparkling 
foam,  such  a  sky !  We  had  a  nice  awning  on  deck, 
which  fluttered  merrily  in  the  wind.  The  soldiers 
below  seemed  to  enjoy  basking  in  the  sun.  White 
sails  gleamed  here  and  there  around  us,  and  it  seemed 
as  if  we  must  be  making  a  royal  voyage  of  pleasure 
in  some  enchanted  sea, — it  is  so  very  beautiful,  this 
many-colored  Mediterranean. 

So  here  we  are  to  spend  one  morning,  we  little 
herd  of  first-class  passengers. 

The  nuns  (second-class)  are  seated  on  some  bales 
on  the  quarter-deck  below.  The  youngest  is  crying 
bitterly  again,  and  rests  her  poor  head  on  the  breast 
of  one  of  the  elder  "  sisters."  There  is  a  great  differ 
ence  in  the  look  of  the  two  "  Superiors."  One  of 
them  has  a  fine  face,  but  exactly  as  if  carved  out  of 
stone, — bloodless,  almost  immovable.  It  is  easy  to 
see  that  she  has  clone  with  this  world's  affections. 
She  is  mild  and  serene,  and  does  not  strain  her  eyes 
with  anguish  toward  France, — they  look  calmly  every 
where,  but  generally  on  her  book. 

The  other  Superior  is  a  dear,  motherly-looking 
woman,  comely  still  and  rather  stout.  She  must 
have  been  very  pretty.  A  color  still  lingers  on  her 
cheek;  and  there  are  tears  in  her  soft-brown  eyes, 
which  could  sparkle  very  merrily.  It  is  on  her  breast 
that  the  poor  young  nuns  lean  so  despondingly.  I 
point  out  to  Edmund  (who  is  chatting  to  Herr  S — 
about  their  favorite  Germany)  the  group  of  second- 
class  passengers  below  ;  they  also  have  an  awning,  and 
are  enjoying,  each  after  his  own  fashion.,  the  delicious, 


THE   VOYAGE.  25 

breezy  day.  The  lieutenant  of  the  troops  is  there — 
a  very  amiable-looking,  fine  young  fellow.  On  his 
knee  is  perched  a  little  boy  of  seven,  in  scarlet  trou 
sers  and  large  white  pinafore.  His  mother  is  a  deli 
cate,  sad-looking  little  lady.  They  are  going  to  join 
her  husband  in  the  Crimea ;  and  the  young  lieutenant 
takes  quite  chivalrous  care  of  his  friend's  wife  and 
child.  We  watch  him  patiently  trying  to  teach  the 
spoiled  little  boy  to  read ;  but  he  soon  escapes,  and 
darts  off  to  the  nuns;  and  a  kindly  acquaintance 
begins  between  the  two  parties  from  that  moment,  in 
which  even  the  most  desponding  nun  joins  at  last. 
Of  our  party  above,  the  French  lady  is  knitting.  I 
have  given  up  my  book  to  Mademoiselle  Lucie,  who 
discusses  it  with  one  of  her  wide  trousers  twisted 
round  one  of  the  legs  of  her  camp-stool,  and  one  of 
her  long  plaits  of  hair  round  the  other.  Mr.  Bell  is 
trying  to  get  a  sketch  of  a  distant  yacht,  but  it  bounds 
away  too  quickly.  The  handsome  young  Greek  is 
deep  in  a  novel,  the  breeze  playing  riotously  in  his 
dark  hair.  The  melancholy  French,  officer,  after  fondly 
patting  his  poor  sick  chargers  stalled  on  deck,  has 
again  disappeared.  Mr.  Newall  is  looking  through 
his  glass  at  a  distant  ship,  which  is  sailing  dreamily 
away  into  the  blue  sky. 

The  bells,  fore  and  aft,  chime  an  hour  past  noon. 
The  sun  is  very  hot,  and  the  breeze  fallen  so  much 
that  scarcely  a  breath  stirs  the  awning  as  the  vessel 
works  onward.  Every  now  and  then  a  heated  blast 
comes  up  from  the  boilers,  which  catches  your  breath 
and  gives  you  a  sickening  idea  of  the  "  Inferno."  I 
at  last  disappear  for  a  siesta,  and  pass  through  the 
deck  cabin :  there  reposes,  full  length  on  the  morocco 
8 


26  IN   AND   AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

cushions,  the  tired  Queen's  Messenger ;  his  book  has 
fallen  down;  he  looks  pale — and  patient.  What  a 
life  it  has  been  during  the  war !  A  young  soldier 
brought  me  a  glass  of  cool  lemonade:  he  was  still 
suffering  from  two  very  severe  wounds  received  at 
the  Alma,  but  preferred  doing  what  he  could  on 
board  the  "  Simois "  to  remaining  in  the  hospital  at 
Scutari.  He  was  only  eighteen,  he  told  us,  and  had 
been  out  since  the  commencement  of  the  war.  Such 
a  pretty,  gentle  boy !  We  quite  grew  to  like  him, 
and  his  patient,  quiet  ways.  He  certainly  did  not 
seem  to  be  made  of  the  stuff  to  kill.  What  a  horrible 
necessity  is  war ! 

The  ceaseless  beat  of  a  screw,  and  the  noise  of 
many  feet  overhead,  are  not  very  great  incentives  to 
sleep  on  a  sultry  sofa ;  while  the  sun  positively 
blisters  the  paint.  I  try  to  read  "  Evangeline,"  but 
it  is  too  dreadful  even  to  think  of  the  cool,  shady 
forests  of  Acadia  in  that  scorching  heat !  If  /  suf 
fer  in  one  of  the  best  cabins,  what  must  it  be  for 
the  poor  soldiers  on  deck !  Two  of  them  have  their 
wives  with  them, — very  quiet,  patient  women.  I  often 
see  them  washing  their  own  gowns  or  their  hus 
bands'  shirts  as  well  as  they  can,  after  dark.  These 
are  going  uncomplainingly  to  suffering — perhaps  to 
death. 

Presently  Mr.  Bell  called  to  us,  and  we  heard  the 
word  "Corsica."  "To  pass  Corsica,  and  asleep!" 
we  exclaimed,  and  rushed  on  deck.  Yes,  there,  rising 
abruptly  out  of  the  dark  blue  waters,  were  the  stern- 
looking  rocks  of  Corsica,  upon  which  every  eye  was 
fixed,  even  to  the  timid  ones  of  the  nuns. 

Very   solitary  and  grand,   it  looks  a  fitting  birth- 


THE   VOYAGE.  27 

place  for  its  hero.  Not  a  sail  was  near,  and,  from  the 
ship  no  sign  of  man  or  human  habitation,  only,  as  I 
said,  the  many-colored  rocks,  rising  sternly  and 
abruptly  out  of  the  sea ;  over  these  two  large  birds 
were  soaring,  which  Mr.  Bell  tried  to  convince  me 
were  eagles,  but  I  could  not  help  confessing  they 
were  too  small  to  claim  that  honorable  name. 

And  now,  on  our  left,  appeared  the  violet-tinted 
mountains  of  Sardinia,  coasted  by  rocks  of  every 
shade,  from  dazzling  white  to  deepest  green ;  throw 
ing  as  deep  a  shadow  on  the  clear  water  beneath 
them.  The  wild  "  white  horses "  rushed  in  to  be 
tamed  and  still  among  these  lovely  shadows,  except 
here  and  there  against  some  particularly  sharp  point 
where  you  saw  their  snowy  crests  furiously  raging  up 
the  rugged  regardless  rock.  I  shall  never  forget  the 
extraordinary  beauty  of  the  Mediterranean  summer 
coloring  of  sea  and  sky  and  rocks;  with  the  violet  mist 
of  mountains  and  islands  in  the  distance,  and  the 
beautiful  white  sea-birds  slowly  flying  by.  On  went 
our  good  ship  through  the  dark  blue  waters :  it  still 
seemed  a  royal  trip  of  pleasure  on  an  enchanted  sea. 
Far  up  in  the  distant  mountains  of  Sicily  we  some 
times  saw  a  white  Italian  villa  glittering  in  the  sun 
shine,  and  wondered  who  lived  in  that  beautiful  and 
solitary  place.  Now  and  then,  in  a  creek  or  sheltered 
nook,  appeared  a  small  village  with  its  wreathing 
smoke  (perhaps  of  myrtle-wood,)  and  vineyards  and 
gardens,  which  we  made  out  with  our  glasses. 

We  frequently  passed  in  the  distance  the  pretty 
sailing-boats  of  the  Mediterranean,  with  their  white 
sails  set,  and  darting  along  the  coast,  the  very  things 
of  life  and  liberty.  Small  birds  often  perched  on  the 


28  IN    AND    AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

rigging  of  our  vessel,  and  after  resting  and  pluming 
their  little  wings,  flew  away  again. 

Every  one  enjoyed  the  deck  beyond  measure  when 
night  came  around  again  with  its  refreshing  breezes. 
Again  the  foam  made  by  the  vessel  glittered  like 
myriads  of  golden  phantom-stars  flying  past  us.  The 
stars  above  were  almost  as  numerous,  but  looked 
down  calm  and  large  through  the  lofty  ropes  of  the 
ship. 

In  these  latitudes  the  Milky  Way  is  much  more 
distinctly  visible  than  in  England,  and  the  southern 
constellations  are  wonderfully  beautiful.  Mr.  Newall 
gave  me  several  pleasant  lessons  in  astronomy  on 
these  quiet  evenings, — but  the  heavy  dew  soon  drove 
prudent  people  below.  Sometimes  we  passed  a  soldier 
fast  asleep  as  we  went  down,  and  I  placed  lightly  on 
his  folded  arms  a  fine  peach,  or  bunch  of  grapes, 
which  no  doubt  surprised  him  when  he  awoke.  But 
it  was  often  too  sultry  to  think  of  going  early  to 
one's  berth,  so  Mademoiselle  Lucie  and  I  had  recourse 
to  the  pianoforte  in  the  ladies'  cabin.  How  delighted 
the  soldiers  and  sailors  were  with  our  songs !  Edmund 
came  in  laughing,  to  bid  us  look  up  at  the  crowd  of 
sunburnt  faces  hanging  over  the  open  skylight  of  the 
saloon. 

What  a  motley  group  it  was !  When  we  played 
dance  music,  one  of  the  soldiers  accompanied  us  ad 
mirably  well  with  his  castanets.  The  conclusion  of 
each  performance  was  followed  by  a  peal  of  applause 
from  our  laughing  friends  in  the  saloon.  Then  came 
11  La  Suisse  au  bord  du  Lac,"  which  elicited  loud  mur 
murs  of  delight  from  the  Frenchmen,  especially  at  the 
chorus  of  "Oh,  ma  patrie!"  And  lastly  they  were 


MUSIC    OX    BOARD.  29 

brought  to  the  highest  state  of  enthusiasm  by  "Par- 
tant  pour  la  Syrie." 

So  usually  ended  our  evening.  Nothing  remained 
but  quiet  thoughts  of  you  all  at  home,  and  to  confide 
ourselves  through  the  dark  hours  of  night  to  One  who 
watches  over  all,  both  on  sea  and  land. 


LETTER  III. 

ARRIVAL    AT    MALTA — SUNDAY    MORNING — RAMBLE    THROUGH    MALTA — 

FEAST    AND    CHURCH    OF    ST.  JOHN HARBOR  OF  V  A  LETT  A RETURN  ON 

BOARD "  THE  ISLES  OF  GREECE" CAPES  MATAPAN  AND  ST.  ANGELO. 

Malta,  Sunday. 

My  dear  Mother  • 

At  six  o'clock  in  the  morning  I  was  startled 
from  a  sound  sleep  by  a  tremendous  noise.  "It  is 
only  the  anchor  dropping,"  said  a  drowsy  voice  from 
the  opposite  berth.  "Land!  Where  are  we  then?" — 
"  At  Malta." 

I  climbed  upon  the  sofa,  and  looked  through  a 
port-hole.  The  sea  was  dancing  in  huge  blue  waves, 
and  the  morning  could  not  be  more  bright  and  splen 
did.  The  quiet  of  the  vessel  at  anchor  was  very 
pleasant  after  the  ceaseless  noise  of  the  engines,  which 
had  been  sounding  in  one's  ears  night  and  day  for  so 
long.  Even  the  poor  cocks  and  hens  on  board  began 
to  crow  and  cackle  with  satisfaction  at  the  change. 
Our  ship  was  thronged  with  gay ly -painted  Maltese 
boats,  laden  with  grapes  and  melons,  which  the  sol 
diers  on  deck  were  eagerly  buying,  and  pulling  up  in 
small  wooden  buckets  tied  to  a  stout  rope.  The  sea 
heaved  and  danced  in  a  most  inconvenient  way  for 
these  commercial  transactions ;  and  the  confusion  of 
French  tongues  above,  and  of  loud  and  voluble  Italian 
below,  was  most  amusing  to  listen  to. 

I  could  not  help  laughing  at  the  advantage  which 
the  soldiers  had  in  a  dispute  as  to  the  price  of  fruit 
(30) 


SUNDAY    MORNING   AT    MALTA.  81 

which  had  been  already  hauled  up.  The  sea  was  so 
rough  that  the  expostulating  Maltese  could  hardly 
keep  their  legs  in  the  boats,  and  their  customers 
above  had  only  to  threaten  to  let  go  the  rope  to  put 
an  end  to  the  altercation  at  once.  However,  they  be 
haved  very  well,  and  the  storm  soon  quietly  settled 
down  to  a  friendly  push  off  and  nod  of  adieu.  The 
Maltese  have  become  comparatively  rich  since  the 
war  broke  out ;  selling  all  their  wares,  from  melons  to 
gold  and  silver  crosses,  and  lace  and  cameo  brooches 
to  little  white  lion-dogs,  at  a  very  high  price  to  eager 
customers. 

It  was  Sunday  morning  when  we  arrived  at  Malta. 
By  seven  o'clock  I  was  sitting  on  deck.  The  bells,  of 
many  churches  were  ringing  to  prayers.  They  sounded 
very  sweetly  over  the  sea ;  and  the  nuns,  standing  in 
their  old  place,  looking  over  the  side  of  the  vessel, 
seemed  especially  to  delight  in  listening  to  them. 
Perhaps  it  reminded  them  of  old  days  in  the  Valley 
of  the  Khone,  where  bells  are  ever  sounding  so  mu 
sically  through  the  gardens  and  vineyards  of  the 
villages. 

We  were  anchored  in  the  smaller  harbor  of  Malta, 
appropriated  entirely  to  the  French  during  the  war. 
It  was  crowded  with  ships  of  all  sizes.  It  is  such  a 
terrible  place  for  glare,  that  I  have  but  a  confused 
notion  of  long  rows  of  white  stone  buildings  rising 
suddenly  out  of  the  sea;  a  sentinel  pacing  up  and 
down  on  a  narrow  white  causeway  before  me ;  and  a 
shriveled  fig-tree,  powdered  with  white  dust,  and 
looking  very  hot,  growing  against  the  hot  white  walls. 
However,  I  managed  to  make  out  a  few  scorched 
olive-trees  on  the  hard-baked  hills  above. 


32  IN   AND   AKOUXD   STAMBOUL. 

Our  breakfast-table  was  covered  with  Maltese  prod 
uce:  magnificent  peaches  and  green  figs  (which 
spoke  of  shady  gardens  somewhere) ;  delicious  red  mul 
let  ;  and  many-colored,  gaping  cockles,  for  those  who 
liked  them.  Then  jumping  into  a  pink  and  yellow 
boat,  with  a  beak  at  each  end,  we  rowed  to  see  the 
town  and  the  great  harbor  of  Valetta. 

Mrs.  Austin  had  kindly  given  us  two  letters  to 
friends  of  hers ;  but  they  were  in  the  hold,  under  a 
mass  of  baggage,  with  our  books  for  the  voyage,  life- 
preservers,  and  other  things  which  we  wanted  every 
moment.  What  a  pity  that  it  is  not  more  gener 
ally  known  that  travelers  are  seldom  allowed  more 
than  one  small  portmanteau  or  carpet-bag  in  their 
cabin ! 

But  to  return  to  our  ramble  at  Malta.  We  landed 
on  a  white  stone  quay,  and  toiled  up  a  long  flight  of 
hot  white  stone  steps,  lined  with  beggars,  sailor-boys, 
and  waifs  and  strays  of  all  nations.  Then  we  followed 
our  guide  into  a  narrow,  crowded  street,  where  groups 
of  black-eyed  women  and  children  were  huddled  to 
gether  by  their  open  doors,  basking  in  the  sun,  and 
looking  curiously  at  the  strangers.  Men,  with  baskets 
of  melons,  were  noisily  pushing  along  the  broken  and 
dirty  pavement ;  and  boys  with  beautiful  flowers 
pressed  you  to  buy,  in  strange,  harsh-sounding  Italian. 
The  children  seem  to  flourish  wonderfully,  basking  in 
their  picturesque  rags  at  the  door,  disputing  the  sun 
niest  piece  of  dirt  with  numerous  kittens  and  curs  of 
low  degree. 

Almost  every  house  had  its  bird-cages.  The  Mal 
tese  are  famous  for  their  breed  of  canaries.  We  soon 
arrived  at  some  of  the  principal  streets, — very  steep 


CHURCH   OF   ST.   JOHN.  33 

hills  of  narrow  white  houses,  with  carved  and  irregu 
lar  Italian  balconies  filled  with  flowers  and  shrubs. 
We  met  many  ladies  hastening  to  church,  all  dressed 
in  rich  black  silk,  with  a  mantilla,  just  like  a  black 
silk  petticoat  gathered  into  a  band,  and  held  prettily 
over  the  head.  It  falls  over  the  shoulders  very  grace 
fully  ;  and  eyes  as  black  as  night  sparkle  beneath  it 
most  effectively.  I  must  say  that  an  air  of  coquettish 
devotion  (if  I  may  use  the  expression)  strikes  one  at 
Malta,  as  much  in  the  ladies  as  in  the  rich-robed,  sleek- 
looking  priests,  who  pace  the  streets  with  an  appear 
ance  of  great  satisfaction. 

It  was  the  feast  of  St.  John,  and  we  went  to  the  ser 
vice  in  the  church  of  that  name,  built  by  the  Knights 
of  Malta.  All  the  rare  old  tapestry  illustrative  of  the 
life  of  our  Saviour  was  exposed  to  public  view.  We 
were  struck  with  the  singular  brilliancy  of  its  colors 
(particularly  the  fine  ultramarine  blue)  after  the  lapse 
of  so  many  ages. 

The  floor  of  the  church  is  a  rich  mosaic,  each  com 
partment  being  the  monument  of  a  knight.  One 
might  well  spend  hours  here ;  but  when  we  entered, 
Mass  was  being  sung,  and  we  were  too  much  impressed 
with  its  solemnity  to  search  even  for  Caravaggio's  fine 
picture.  There  were  no  " family  seats,"  no  "respect 
able  pews,"  with  luxuriously-stuffed  cushions  and  rows 
of  gilt-leaved  books,  in  this  grand  old  church.  Only 
many  rows  of  rough  wooden  chairs  by  the  arched  col 
umns  on  either  side,  where  all  either  knelt,  or  sat  and 
listened,  as  they  liked, — from  the  graceful  Maltese  lady 
in  her  rich  sweeping  silks,  to  the  wildest-looking 
sailor,  with  his  bare  feet  and  patched  j  acket.  There  were 
many  who  seemed  wanderers  and  outcasts  upon  the 


34  IN   AND   AROUXD   STAMBOUL. 

face  of  the  earth — so  wild-looking  as  to  have  lost  almost 
all  trace  of  humanity. 

There  were  many  lonely,  desolate-looking  people — 
many  friendless  wanderers  from  many  lands.  To  us 
all  it  was  a  most  impressive  service ;  gathered  on  shore 
again  as  we  were,  safe  from  the  sea,  in  this  most  inte 
resting  and  beautiful  church. 

I  was  particularly  struck  with  one  Maltese  sailor, 
whose  matted  hair  and  beard,  and  bronzed  bare  feet, 
stood  out  in  strong  relief  from  one  of  the  columns,  at 
the  foot  of  which  he  knelt  with  two  young  boys  as 
savage  and  neglected-looking  as  himself.  He  prayed 
and  crossed  himself  with  the  greatest  intensity,  only 
turning  round  once  to  make  his  ragged  boys  kneel 
too.  It  was  very  touching  to  see  his  rough  but  earn 
est  teaching.  Two  little  beggar-girls,  weather-beaten 
and  thin,  entered  alone,  and  sat  down  fearlessly  on  the 
marble  steps  close  to  the  richly-robed  priests. 

Many  in  this  strange  assembly  groaned  audibly,  and 
tears  poured  down  many  a  sunburnt  face.  It  is  im 
possible  not  to  be  struck  with  the  outward  devotion  of 
Southern  people.  The  porch  of  the  church  was  crowded 
with  beggars ;  dogs  waiting  for  their  masters ;  and  sell 
ers  of  fruit  and  flowers,  who  had  put  down  their  bas 
kets  to  pray  and  cross  themselves  most  devoutly  for  a 
few  minutes  within  sound  of  the  organ,  and  then  to  go 
laughing  and  shouting  on  their  way. 

"We  greatly  enjoyed  our  row  back  to  the  "  Simois." 
The  grand  harbor  of  Valetta  is  a  very  fine  sight  just 
now,  crowded  as  it  is  with  ships  of  war.  Grayly- 
painted  boats,  rowed  by  swarthy  Maltese,  dart  about 
in  all  directions.  The  boatmen's  boys  seemed  to  me 
the  most  saucy  and  independent  little  fellows  in  the 


NEW   PASSENGERS.  35 

world.  We  saw  many  of  these  black-eyed,  curly  - 
headed  young  brigands  rocking  about  in  the  most  un 
concerned  manner  in  that  turbulent  sea, — a  shout  for 
every  passer-by,  always  ready,  and  a  merry  indiffer 
ence  as  to  whether  their  oars  were  in  the  water  or  out 
of  it.  Some  of  them  were  fishing  off  the  rocks.  The 
water,  of  wonderful  clearness  here,  reflects  the  dark 
green  and  purple  sea-weed  growing  on  them  in  the 
most  beautiful  manner. 

Malta,  with  its  steep  white  rocks  and  fortifications 
all  round,  and  cannon  bristling  in  every  direction,  cer 
tainly  gives  one  an  imposing  idea  of  the  home  of  the 
Knights  of  St.  John  in  their  palmy  days.  The  heat 
and  glare  is  certainly  terrible.  If  it  were  not  for  the 
sea-breeze,  one  would  be  soon  scorched  up  like  an 
olive-leaf.  How  I  pitied  the  poor  "  coalers,"  toiling 
up  the  sides  of  our  great  steam  transports ! 

It  is  a  curious  thing  to  see  a  boat-load  of  twenty  or 
thirty  of  these  men  leaving  a  ship.  They  are  so 
black  from  coal-dust  that  you  cannot  distinguish 
features,  and  they  look  more  like  a  crew  of  evil  spirits 
than  any  thing  else,  dancing  on  the  bright  blue 
waves. 

We  found  some  new  passengers  on  our  return  to 
the  ship.  A  Greek  lady  and  her  daughter,  both  sin 
gularly  handsome ;  the  mother  wearing  rich  plaits  of 
hair  bound  round  a  scarlet  fez ;  the  daughter,  alas ! 
although  cast  in  the  most  exquisite  mould  of  classic 
Greek  beauty  of  face  and  form,  dressed  in  the  last 
French  fashion.  One  seemed  perfectly  to  remember 
having  seen  her  in  rarely  draped  white  marble  in 
some  hall  or  studio,  or  on  some  friend's  mantel-piece. 

Our  deck-passengers   were   a  wild-looking   young 


36  IN   AND   ABOUND   STAMBOUL. 

Maltese  and  his  wife,  going  to  Constantinople  to  sell 
their  canaries,  of  which  they  had  seventy -five  in  a 
large  wicker  cage.  These  hardy  travelers  brought 
nothing  more  for  their  many  days'  journey  than  a  few 
melons,  and  several  loaves  of  coarse  brown  bread.  It 
was  charming  to  have  the  bright,  merry  little  canaries 
on  board.  Mademoiselle  Lucie  and  I  used  to  take 
them  cool  grapes  to  peck  at,  and  the  lame  young  sol 
dier  constantly  brought  them  fresh  water.  Their  dark 
mistress,  with  her  heavy  gold  earrings  and  matted 
black  hair,  was  generally  stretched  fast  asleep  upon 
one  of  her  bundles ;  her  bare  brown  legs  appearing 
equally  indifferent  to  the  regards  of  the  sun  or  of  the 
numerous  passers-by. 

We  did  not  sit  long  at  dinner  to-day,  for  it  was  a 
magnificent  sunset,  and  we  all  wished  to  see  Malta 
rapidly  disappearing  in  the  golden  light,  which  was  a 
beautiful  sight.  The  young  Greek  lady  was  a  great 
addition  to  our  evening  walk  on  deck.  She  was  a 
most  charming  coquette,  quite  of  the  modern  school, 
notwithstanding  the  antique  cast  of  her  beauty,  and 
had  all  her  admirers'  names,  written  by  themselves, 
with  couplets  expressing  the  completest  devotion, 
upon  each  of  the  large  folds  of  her  fan.  She  laughed 
like  a  merry  child  when  I  asked  her  how  many  more 
would  be  added  before  she  left  the  ship.  Pretty  grace 
ful  A !  she  was  most  like  a  spoiled  child  after  all, 

and  even  the  nuns  soon  learned  to  smile  on  her. 

The  day  after  leaving  Malta  we  were  among  "  the 
Isles  of  Greece."  The  weather  was  still  most  lovely  ; 
the  sea  a  deep,  deep  blue.  Mr.  Bell  took  sketches 
in  water-colors  all  day  long.  Even  the  melancholy 
French  officer  was  charmed  ;  the  nuns  put  down  their 


CAPE   ST.  ANGELO.  37 

books,  and  the  soldiers  clustered  to  the  sides  of  the 

vessel.     Herr  S read  enthusiastically,  in  broken 

English,  Byron's  fine  stanzas  : 

"  The  isles  of  Greece  !  the  isles  of  Greece  ! 
Where  burning  Sappho  loved  and  sung, 
Where  grew  the  arts  of  war  and  peace, 
Where  Delos  rose,  and  Phoebus  sprung  ! 
Eternal  summer  gilds  them  yet ; 
But  all  except  their  sun  is  yet  !' 

The  great  truth  and  force  of  Byron's  descriptions 
strike  one  very  much  on  visiting  places  described  by 
him. 

Mr.  Bell  made  an  excellent  sketch  of  Cape  Mata- 
pan  and  its  many-colored  rocks.  Our  grave,  black- 
bearded  Maltese  pilot  told  us  that  it  was  very  well  to 
laugh  while  passing  it  in  fair  weather,  but  that  a  stiff 
breeze  would  make  it  quite  a  different  thing.  In  the 

olden  time,  learned  Herr  S informed  us,  Greek 

sailors  used  to  hang  up  a  votive  tablet  to  the  deities 
after  having  made  this  stormy  headland  in  safety. 

At  Cape  St.  Angelo  we  made  out  plainly,  by  the 
help  of  our  glasses,  a  rude  hut,  on  a  steep  and  barren 
slope  of  rock,  on  which  one  would  think  that  a  goat 
could  hardly  climb  with  safety.  Here  another  learned 
person  of  our  party  mentioned  the  temple  of  Apollo, 
which  Lady  M.  W.  Montague  had  informed  him,  in 
her  charming  way,  had  once  stood  on  those  very 
rocks;  but  here  now  resides  a  hermit,  who  often 
hoists  a  little  petitioning  flag  to  ships  passing  by, 
hoping  that  they  may  take  pity  on  his  most  solitary 
condition,  and  put  off  a  boat  with  a  present  of  bis 
cuit,  etc.  etc.  He  did  not  do  so  to  us,  however ;  and 
we  all  declared  that  he  must  have  caught  a  glimpse 
4 


38  IN   AND   AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

of  our  fair  Greek's  fine  eyes,  which  he,  as  a  respect 
able  and  consistent  recluse,  could  not  be  expected  to 
brave.  People  are  not  always  as  merry  as  we  were 
in  passing  Capes  Matapan  and  St.  Angelo. 

But  the  pleasantest  as  well  as  the  most  sorrowful 
days  must  have  an  end;  and  when  we  arrived  and 
cast  anchor  at  Syra,  the  Greek  ladies  were  to  leave  us. 
We  parted,  with  many  hopes  of  meeting  again  in 
England.  The  sea  was  very  rough,  and  it  was  with 
great  difficulty  that  they  got  into  the  little  Greek  boat 
dancing  below.  Sad  to  say,  just  as  Mr.  A —  -  was 
mustering  up  courage  to  make  an  impressive  as  well 
as  a  tender  adieu,  a  cruel  signal  was  given  to  let  go 
the  rope,  and  a  remorseless  wave  tore  the  little  bark 
away  as  the  first  sentence  was  trembling  on  his  lips. 


LETTEK    IV. 

BYRA A      GREEK       HOSTELRY PIRATES EVENING SMYRNA  - —  THE 

BAZAARS — RAMBLE     THROUGH    THE    CITY — THE    CHURCH THE    SLAVE- 
MARKET THE     BASHI-BAZOUKS GALLIPOLI  —  THE     DARDANELLES 

APPROACH  TO  CONSTANTINOPLE THE  BOSPHORUS — LANDING. 

Constantinople,  September  8th,  1855. 

My  dear  Mother : 

Syra,  as  seen  from  the  sea,  seemed  to  be  little 
more  than  a  barren  pile  of  rocks,  with  a  few  olive- 
gardens  and  fig-trees  scattered  here  and  there.  Mr. 
Bell  made  an  excellent  sketch  of  its  beautiful  harbor 
of  St.  Geoge,  with  the  hills  of  Tino  and  Myconi. 

The  town  is  built  upon  steep -piled  rocks.  A  ruined 
castle,  of  evidently  great  antiquity  and  once  formid 
able  strength,  crowns  the  topmost  ridge,  and  beneath 
it  houses  cluster  thickly  on  each  side  down  to  the 
water's  edge,  where  their  many  bright  colors  and 
Eastern  irregularity  of  outline  are  beautifully  reflected 
in  the  dark  blue  waves. 

Our  ship  was,  as  usual,  surrounded  with  Greek  boat 
loads  of  fruit  and  vegetables.  An  old  Greek,  with 
a  fine  white  beard  which  would  have  graced  Nestor 
himself,  particularly  struck  me.  He  was  selling  the 
little  purple  wild  pigeon,  for  which  Syra  is  noted,  to 
our  maitre  cFkdtel;  while  a  brigand-looking  young 
fellow  at  his  side  was  recommending  his  baskets  of 
shell-fish  with  an  eloquence  worthy  of  a  Grecian  ora 
tor.  There  is  certainly  much  grace  and  beauty  still 
lingering  among  the  Greeks,  if  nothing  more. 

(39) 


40  IN   AND   ABOUND   STAMBOUL. 

Herr  S and  Mr.  Bell  returned  to  the  ship  after 

a  ramble  of  some  hours,  having  climbed  to  the  very 
summit  of  Syra.  They  declared  themselves  to  be 
amply  repaid  for  the  excessive  heat  and  fatigue  by 
the  lovely  view  which  they  had  obtained  of  islands 
studding  the  sea  like  a  constellation  of  stars  in  the 
sky,  which  produces  a  most  beautiful  effect,  backed 
by  the  undulating  outlines  of  the  surrounding  moun 
tains.  I  am  told  that  none  of  these  islands  are  beau 
tiful  in  themselves,  being  merely  groups  of  barren 
rocks,  with  a  patch  of  cultivation  here  and  there. 

ISTo  breakfast  could  be  got  by  our  hungry  friends  at 
Syra.  The  Greek  master  of  a  miserable  pile  of  wood, 
called  an  inn,  coolly  informed  them,  in  bad  Italian, 
that  Tie  had  breakfasted  long  ago  ! 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say,  then,  that  we  cannot  even 
get  a  cup  of  coffee  ?"  said  the  indignant  artist. 

"I  don't  think  you  can,"  replied  the  "host,"  pulling 
on  his  slipper  with  a  yawn. 

After  leaving  Syra,  we  came  in  sight  of  rocks  and 
mountains  wilder-looking  than  ever,  with  most  pi 
ratical,  half  castle,  half  houselike  dwellings,  perched 
every  here  and  there,  mostly  about  their  almost  inac 
cessible  summits.  Even  in  these  days  it  is  not  safe 
for  merchant-vessels  to  pass  this  place  unprotected; 
and  the  mails  do  not  disdain  to  carry  a  few  muskets 
and  cutlasses  in  case  of  a  visit  from  Greek  pirates, 
whose  mysterious-looking  craft  are  constantly  seen 
lurking  about  the  rocks,  or  dashing  at  a  rapid  rate 
along  the  coast. 

You  would  greatly  admire  the  picturesque  Greek 
boats,  or  rather  feluccas.  Their  prow  is  shaped  like 
the  breast  of  a  huge  bird,  the  long  neck  elaborately 


BAZAARS   AT  SMYRNA.  41 

carved  and  ornamented.  One  constantly  thinks  01 
the  vessels  in  which  Jason  set  sail  in  search  of  the 
Golden  Fleece. 

Still  the  evenings  were  most  beautiful,  a  fresh  gale 
usually  springing  up  after  sunset ;  and  as  the  stars 
came  suddenly  out,  it  was  charming  to  watch  sea  and 
sky  mingle  in  a  soft  violet  shade,  with  a  faint  out 
line  of  the  mountains  all  around  us. '  I  used  to  love 
to  listen  then  to  the  nuns'  quiet  talk,  and  sometimes 
to  the  pretty  French  airs  whistled  by  the  soldiers, 
poor  fellows  1  as  they  paced  the  deck. 

We  arrived  early  in  the  morning  at  Smyrna,  landed, 
and  had  a  long  ramble.  The  bay  is  very  fine,  and  on 
the  summit  of  the  hills  above  are  the  ruins  of  a  fine 
old  castle.  The  first  thing  we  met  in  the  narrow 
streets  was  a  long  train  of  camels,  and  were  charmed 
with  the  jingle  of  their  bells,  as  they  brought  in 
heavy  loads  of  grapes  and  figs  from  the  country.  The 
team  was  led  by  a  brisk,  dapper-looking  little-  donkey, 
gayly  caparisoned,  who  picked  his  way  carefully  over 
the  wretched  pavement,  which  reminds  one,  by-the- 
bye,  more  of  a  stable-yard  in  ruins  (if  you  can  fancy 
that)  than  any  thing  else.  The  Turks  seemed  very 
much  astonished,  to  say  the  least  of  it,  to  see  me  walk 
ing  along  at  such  a  rate  with  a  party  of  men. 

Then  we  strolled  into  the  bazaars — such  a  striking 
scene !  Tailed  Turkish  ladies, — some  on  foot,  attended 
by  black  slaves;  others  in  a  kind  of  Cinderella's 
pumpkin  carriage,  and  carrying  fans  of  peacocks' 
feathers  in  their  hands;  noisy  Greeks  in  richly- 
embroidered  vests,  with  silver-mounted  yataghans  in 
scarfs  round  their  waists ;  stately  old  Turks,  smoking 
quietly  in  their  little  shops,  with  their  yellow  slippers 
4* 


4.2  IN    AND   ABOUND   STAMBOUL. 

by  their  side;  grave-looking  Armenians;  hideous 
Nubian  slaves;  camel -drivers;  hungry-looking  dogs; 
strings  of  heavily-laden  donkeys ;  coffee-bearers ;  fruit- 
sellers  ;  sellers  of  lemonade  and  sherbet,  tinkling  their 
glasses  as  they  pass  rapidly  along ;  Greek  boys,  rush 
ing  by  with  little  pieces  of  lighted  charcoal  for  the 
smokers;  English  and  French  soldiers  and  sailors; 
nondescripts  of  all  nations  bustling  along  through  a 
kennel,  about  six  feet  wide,  roofed  over  with  canvas 
and  old  vines.  It  is  a  sight  which,  when  seen  for  the 
first  time,  seems  the  most  extraordinary  one  imagin 
able. 

Passing  under  an  ancient  gateway  of  the  town  soon 
after,  our  dragoman  told  us,  with  great  gravity,  that 
had  we  but  arrived  the  day  before,  we  should  have 
had  the  satisfaction  of  seeing  the  head  of  a  brigand 
nailed  to  one  of  the  beams,  which  had  been  exposed 
there  for  some  time.  We  should  have  been  much 
better  pleased  to  have  explored  the  many  remains  of 
antiquity  which  are  still  to  be  seen  behind  the  town — 
fragments  of  the  ancient  city  and  Acropolis,  and  fa 
mous  temple  of  Cybele. 

"We  spent  some  time  in  the  church — one  of  the 
Seven  Churches  of  Asia  Minor.  It  is  decorated  in 
the  usual  gaudy  style  of  the  Greeks :  frightful  pictures 
of  saints  with  silver  hands  and  "glories;"  plenty  of 
artificial  flowers  twined  round  huge  waxen  tapers, 
and  innumerable  glass  chandeliers ,  with  trumpery 
colored  pendents.  It  was  sad  to  see  so  ancient  and 
interesting  a  church  so  much  disfigured. 

We  then  looked  at  the  fine  white-marble  fountain 
of  the  town,  where  groups  of  tired  camels  and  their 
picturesque-looking  drivers  had  stopped  to  rest.  Here, 


THE   SLAVE    MARKET.  43 

for  the  first  time,  we  heard  a  muezzin  call  out  to 
prayer  from  a  neighboring  lofty  minaret. 

Passing  onward  through  the  narrow  streets,  our 
guide  conducted  us  under  a  low,  dark  archway.  This, 
led  into  a  sort  of  yard,  with  rickety  wooden  build 
ings  all  around,  and  this  was  the  Slave  Market.  Such 
a  sad,  humiliating  sight !  There  were  only  about  a 
dozen  blacks  to  sell,  mostly  women ;  and  several  had 
little  children  or  babies  in  their  arms.  I  thought 
they  looked  cheerful,  and  very  much  at  home  with 
their  Turkish  master,  with  the  exception  of  one  poor 
creature  who  sat  aloof  from  the  rest,  the  image  of 
sullen  despair.  I  gave  her  a  peach  which  I  had  in 
my  basket,  and  a  little  piece  of  money.  She  took 
hold  of  my  hand  and  said  something  which  I  could 
not  understand.  Poor  soul,  my  heart  could  only  ache 
for  her. 

Another  woman  called  me  "dama  Inglese,"  and 
pointed  to  her  baby  imploringly.  This  quite  knocked 
me  up,  for  it  was  a  pretty,  soft-eyed  little  thing,  and 
looked  very  delicate ;  so  we  gave  them  a  few  pieces 
of  money  and  made  a  precipitate  retreat :  for  it  was 
too  dreadful,  and  we  were  glad  to  get  back  to  the  ship. 

We  found  two  heavily  chained  Bashi-Bazouks  on 
deck,  who  were  being  sent  back  to  Constantinople, 
where  they  had  committed  some  horrid  murder.  They 
were  frightfully  savage-looking  fellows,  black  Arabs, 
and  by  no  means  a  pleasing  addition  to  our  freight. 
There  was  no  more  music  after  these  wretched  prison 
ers  came  on  board. 

"We  stopped  once  more  at  Gallipoli :  the  same  pic 
turesque-looking  place  from  the  sea  as  Syra,  but  mis 
erable  within,  as  only  an  Eastern  town  can  be.  There 


44  IN    AND   AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

a  detachment  of  French  soldiers  came  on  board  en 
route  for  the  Crimea,  officered  by  a  remarkably  fine 
handsome  young  man.  Two  brother  officers,  who 
^came  to  see  him  off,  shook  hands  most  warmly,  and 
then  they  kissed  each  other  on  each  rough  cheek, 
saying,  with  great  emotion,  "  Adieu,  mon  cher  ami !" 
— this  terrible  Crimea ! 

"We  also  take  in  many  Greek,  and  several  Turkish 
deck  passengers  at  Gallipoli,  with  their  bedding  of 
quilts,  antique-shaped  earthen  water -jars,  and  baskets 
of  bread  and  melons  for  the  journey.  The  poor  Turk 
ish  women  look  very  uncomfortable  in  their  white 
vails  and  loose  cumbrous  cloaks.  They  are  herded 
up  in  one  corner,  from  which  they  do  not  move,  but 
look  like  frightened  sheep.  The  men  spread  their 
prayer-carpets  and  began  to  pray  the  moment  they 
had  settled  themselves  and  their  bundles;  kneeling 
and  prostrating  themselves  until  their  foreheads 
touched  the  deck. 

A  pretty  Turkish  child,  wrapped  in  a  little  fur 
jacket,  slept  soundly  beside  one  of  the  women,  who 
kept  spreading  the  corner  of  her  red  quilt  very  ten 
derly  over  it.  Here  at  Gallipoli  we  parted  with  the 
nuns,  who  stepped  quietly  into  a  small  boat,  with 
their  few  boxes.  Every  one  crowded  round  to  give 
them  the  warmest  adieu  and  best  wishes.  We  often 
thought  of  them  after  they  were  gone,  as  you  may 
suppose. 

Sad  to  say,  we  were  all  fast  asleep  as,  in  the  early 
morning,  we  swept  past  Mount  Ida,  and  Sestos,  and 
Abydos,  which  I  was  so  anxious  to  see.  However,  we 
were  wide  awake  to  admire  the  white  castles  of  the 
Dardanelles,  and  now  thoroughly  comprehended  the 


GALE    ON   THE    SEA   OF    MAKMORA.  45 

vast  importance  of  this  part  of  the  world  to  a  man 
of  genius  and  ambition  like  the  Emperor  Nicholas. 
It  is  a  fine  sight,  steaming  up  the  Dardanelles.  "We 
passed  some  great  ships-of-war,  French  and  English, 
every  sail  set  to  a  fair  wind,  and  crowded  with  troops. 

The  Turks  call  the  town  of  the  Dardanelles,  Chan- 
nahalis.  It  is  the  ancient  Dardanus,  where  the  great 
treaty  was  signed  between  Sylla  and  Mithridates,  (you 
see  I  learn  what  I  can  in  my  travels),  and  another, 
in  modern  times,  between  the  Turks  and  English,  in 
1809. 

The  tomb  of  Hecuba  is  pointed  out  on  the  hills 
above  the  town ;  and  across  here  it  is  said  that  Xerxes 
threw  his  bridge  of  boats.  Every  spot  of  land  in  this 
part  of  the  world  is  of  classic  and  historical  celebrity. 

All  about  the  hills  we  now  saw  the  white  tents  of 
the  Bashi-Bazouk  encampment,  commanded  by  Gene 
ral  Beatson.  I  am  told  that  every  thing  at  the  Dar 
danelles  strikes  the  traveler  as  most  primitive.  There 
you  see  the  patient  ox  at  the  plow,  the  women 
grinding  corn,  or  spinning  at  a  rude  wheel,  or  draw 
ing  water  at  the  ancient  wells,  just  as  represented  in 
the  old  Scripture  days. 

Our  last  evening  at  sea  was  fine,  but  the  sun  went 
down  red  and  angry  looking.  The  fires  of  the  char 
coal-burners  on  the  mountains  produced  a  magnificent 
effect  as  the  darkness  came  on.  Many  of  them  ex 
tended  over  several  acres  of  the  steep  and  rugged 
sides,  casting  a  red  and  lurid  glare  on  the  sky,  as 
if  vast  cities  were  on  fire  at  a  distance. 

At  night  a  tremendous  gale  arose.  The  ship  rocked 
and  swayed  so,  that  people  with  difficulty  prevented 
themselves  from  being  flung  out  of  their  berths.  The 


46  IN   AND   AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

Sea  of  Marmora  is  as  famous  for  sudden  and  violent 
tempests  as  the  Black  Sea. 

We  were  all  thankful  when  morning  came.  I 
dressed  as  well  as  I  could,  and  managing  to  tumble 
on  deck,  held  firmly  by  a  rope,  and  watched  the  enor 
mous  waves,  and  huge  masses  of  dark  clouds  rushing 
by.  The  ship  presented  a  scene  of  great  confusion; 
the  poor  soldiers  had  been  unable  to  keep  up  their 
awning ;  Turks,  Maltese,  and  Greeks,  wet  to  the  skin, 
and  shivering  with  cold  and  terror.  I  pitied  espe 
cially  the  poor  Turkish  women,  whose  drenched  vails 
clung  closely  to  their  pale  faces. 

We  arrived  at  Constantinople  several  hours  later 
than  we  ought  to  have  done,  owing  to  the  roughness 
of  the  weather;  but  as  we  approached  the  Golden 
Horn  the  clouds  were  breaking  up  as  after  an  April 
storm,  the  wind  gradually  dropped,  and  so,  as  it  were 
between  smiles  and  tears,  clouds  and  brightness,  the 
beautiful  city — the  old  Byzantium  and  once  Christian 
capital,  rival  of  Kome  herself — with  its  domes  and 
minarets  and  cypress-groves  and  white  palaces,  burst 
upon  our  charmed  sight.  The  shores  of  Europe  and 
Asia  seemed  to  unite  in  forming  a  vast  bay,  in  the 
middle  of  which  rises  from  the  dark-blue  waves  a  city 
more  beautiful  and  picturesque  than  words  can  de 
scribe.  "  A  fine  government  might  here  guide  or 
rule  the  world,"  is  one  of  your  first  thoughts. 

Long  we  stood  delighted  upon  the  deck,  first  turn 
ing  our  eyes  upon  distant  Mount  Olympus,  whose 
summit  glittered  with  snow ;  then  upon  the  shadowy 
islands  of  the  Propontis;  then  upon  the  sparkling 
Bosphorus,  gay  with  innumerable  caiques  ;  then  upon 
the  crowds  of  stately  ships  of  all  nations ;  then  upon 


ARRIVAL   AT   CONSTANTINOPLE.  47 

the  dark  cypress-groves  and  white  hospital  of  Scutari, 
where  poor  Miss  Nightingale  lay  sick ;  then  upon 
"beautiful  Stamboul,"  with  its  crowning  mosque  of 
Santa  Sophia  and  lofty  minarets.  But  all  this  must 
be  seen  in  sunshine  to  be  believed  in,  and  then  you 
will  think  it  a  dream. 

Numerous  caiques  and  other  boats  crowded  round 
our  vessel  here.  Presently  a  French  officer,  wearing 
several  orders,  stepped  on  board.  What  a  happy 
meeting  it  seemed  with  his  wife  and  little  daughter  1 
Lucie  clung  to  her  father's  arm  with  touching  pride 
and  delight.  We  bade  adieu  and  congratulated  at  the 
same  time. 

Alas  for  the  Bashi-Bazouks !  —  the  wretched  pri 
soners,  who  looked  the  image  of  sullen,  hardened 
despair.  Once  or  twice  I  thought  they  were  going 
to  throw  themselves  into  the  Bosphorus. . 

At  last  all  was  prepared  for  us  to  land,  before  the 
disembarkation  of  the  troops.  Crowds  of  caiquejees, 
kept  at  bay  by  a  soldier  on  duty  at  the  ladder,  were 
disputing  in  loud  Greek  for  the  passengers.  Mr. 
Newall  was  kind  enough  to  offer  us  a  place  in  the 
"Elba's"  boat,  which  had  been  sent  to  meet  him.  So 
the  English  sailors  dashed  through  the  whole  swarm, 
and  soon  set  us  on  shore  at  Galata,  the  landing-place 
of  Pera.  It  was  difficult  to  get  in  through  the  crowds 
of  caiques ;  but  the  boatmen  of  the  Bosphorus,  both 
Greeks  and  Turks,  fine  men  as  they  are,  pretty  soon 
make  way  for  a  crew  of  English  sailors. 

At  last  we  were  on  shore,  among  most  wretched,  di 
lapidated  wooden-houses,  on  a  filthy,  broken,  crowded 
pavement,  amidst  a  motley  group  of  Greeks  and 


48  IN   AND   AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

Turks,  soldiers  and  sailors,  fruit-sellers  and  money, 
changers. 

A  few  vailed  black  women  were  squatted  on  the 
edge  of  the  bridge  of  boats,  over  which  countless 
crowds  were  passing  and  repassing,  and  which  re 
minded  me  of  the  bridge  in  the  Vision  of  Mirza. 

We  soon  found  a  couple  of  hamals  (Turkish  por 
ters),  whose  backs  were  bowed  almost  to  a  crescent 
by  constantly  carrying  heavy  loads,  and  after  a  rapid 
walk  up  the  steep  and  narrow  streets,  after  being 
jostled  by  strings  of  donkeys,  after  having  narrowly 
escaped  being  trampled  on  by  caparisoned  horses, 
treading  on  dead  rats,  melon-rinds,  and  cats — con 
fused,  enchanted  with  the  without,  disgusted  beyond 
measure  at  the  within — we  arrived,  tired  and  almost 
breathless,  at  Mysseri's  Hotel.  They  have  given  me 
such  a  delightful  room,  with  four  large  windows 
looking  down  the  Golden  Horn,  and  on  the  distant 
mountains. 


LETTEK    V. 

PERA ENGLISH     AND     FRENCH     OFFICERS NEWS     OF     THE     WAR — THE- 

RAPIA SHORES       OF       THE       BOSPHORUS FALL     OF      SEBASTOPOL 

PUBLIC    REJOICINGS — SISTERS   OF   CHARITY — ILLUMINATIONS. 

Pera,  September  10th,  1855. 
My  dear  Mr.  Hornby : 

You  will  be  glad  to  hear  that  we  arrived  here  safe 
and  well  on  Saturday,  after  a  most  delightful  passage, 
with  exception  of  the  last  night,  when  it  blew  a  gale  in 
the  Sea  of  Marmora,  with  the  wind  dead  against  us, 
which  retarded  our  arrival  by  several  hours. 

We  have  suffered  a  good  deal  from  heat  on  board 
ship,  and  now  find  these  large  and  lofty  rooms  deli- 
ciously  pleasant  and  cool.  I  sit  quite  enchanted  at  my 
window,  which  looks  all  down  the  Golden  Horn,  where 
English  and  French  men-of-war,  and  a  vast  number  of 
transports,  lie  at  anchor  in  all  their  surly  grandeur; 
while  caiques  and  Greek  boats  with  snow-white  sails, 
flit  about  to  and  fro,  like  birds  on  the  water.  I  saw 
the  sun  set  on  all  this,  on  the  first  evening  of  my  arri 
val.  Such  a  glorious  sight !  the  mountains  in  the  dis 
tance  mingling  with  the  purple  clouds. 

It  is  a  very  striking  scene  at  the  table-d'hote  here. 
One  can  scarcely  see  to  the  end  of  the  table.  Almost 
all  the  guests  are  English  and  French  officers,  either 
in  uniform,  or  in  odd  and  semi-eastern  costume — long 
beards  and  sunburnt  faces.  The  din  of  so  many  voices 
is  almost  as  confusing,  I  should  think,  as  the  roar  of 
cannon  at  Sebastopol ;  but  by  degrees  I  began  to  pick 
5  (49) 


50  IN    AND   ABOUND    STAMBOUL. 

up  a  few  sentences  here  and  there,  which  amused  me 
very  much. 

" Come  and  try  a  day  or  two  over  there"  says  one 
handsome  boy-officer  to  another.  "  I  can  give  you  a 
plank  and  some  capital  clean  straw  in  my  tent,  within 
a  quarter  of  an  hour  of  the  Eedan.  You  won't  mind 
a  shell  now  and  then." 

Then  I  heard  another  recounting— "  Doubled  up  for 
six  weeks,  like  a  ball,  with  cramp — my  tent  like  a 
mud-pond — dreadful  pain !"  "  Where's  his  Highness  ?" 
says  another,  further  up  the  table.  "  His  Highness 
disappeared  the  other  day,"  was  the  reply,  with  a  burst 
of  laughter :  "  he  went  to  take  his  turn  in  the  trenches, 
and  has  never  been  seen  since."  (His  Highness  is 
evidently  a  nickname  for  some  one  very  much  laughed 
at.) 

''Beastly  shell!"  drawled  a  tremendously  tall,  af 
fected  Kifle ;  "  spoiled  the  best  dinner  we  had  had  for 

a  long  time,  and  killed  that  very  amusing  fellow , 

who  sat  next  to  me.  It  was  par-ti-cu-larly  awkward ; 
for  the  tent  fell  down  upon  us,  and  we  were  obliged  to 

crawl  out !" "  I  felt  quite  out-of-sorts  when  it  was 

all  over — missed  my  arm  so  confoundedly  (it  was  still 

in  a  sling),  and  got  no  dinner,  for  poor had  asked 

me  to  dine  with  him  in  the  morning,  and  he  was  killed 
half  an  hour  before." 

You  may  easily  imagine  how  it  startles  one  at  first 
to  hear  all  the  horrible  incidents  of  war  spoken  of  after 
this  fashion.  I  am  the  only  lady  here  at  present ;  and 
as  there  are  no  private  sitting-rooms,  I  have  to  return 
to  my  bedroom  immediately  after  dinner,  which  is  very 
dreary.  There  is  nothing  to  do  here  in  an  evening  for 
strangers.  The  streets  are  dark  and  dangerous. 


NEWS   OF   THE  WAR.  51 

drunken  soldiers  and  sailors  tumbling  over  the 
wretched  pavement,  and  noisy  Greeks  singing  and 
shouting  aloud. 

The  watchmen,  with  their  iron-shod  staves,  make 
a  strange  clinking  noise  as  they  strike  them  against  the 
stones.  The  only  English  sound  is  from  the  distant 
ships'  bells,  which  is  pleasant  enough  to  me.  Mysseri 
is  Eothen's  dragoman,  whom  he  speaks  of  so  highly. 
He  is  married  to  an  Englishwoman,  a  most  kind  and 
excellent  person,  to  whom  everybody  flies  in  all  the 
numerous  difficulties  which  strangers  meet  with  here. 
The  hotel  is  crowded,  not  even  a  sofa  to  be  got ;  the 
large  hall  is  almost  filled  with  the  baggage  of  officers 
coming  and  going,  and  constantly  resounds  with  the 
clinking  of  spurs  and  the  clank  of  swords  upon  the 
stone  pavement. 

It  seems  indeed  a  strange  war-gathering  here. 
Every  one  is  anxious  for  news  from  Sebastopol ;  and 
even  the  sick  and  wounded,  angry  and  impatient  at 
being  away  from  the  scene  of  action,  and  from  the 
tremendous  attack  which  it  is  expected  will  soon  take 
place.  Numbers  of  English  and  French  ships,  crowded 
with  troops,  are  constantly  going  up  to  Balaklava. 

Poor  fellows !  they  are  always  to  be  seen  clustering 
thickly  against  the  side  of  the  vessel,  seemingly  de 
lighted  with  the  novel  and  splendid  scene  through 
which  they  are  passing.  What  a  relief  it  will  be  to 
one's  mind  when  this  dreadful  place  is  taken ! 

Adieu,  with  kindest  love  to  you  all !  We  are  per 
fectly  well,  notwithstanding  the  heat  of  the  days,  and 
the  extreme  chilliness  of  the  nights ;  but  still  seem  in 
Dreamland. 


52  IN   AND   AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

Therapia,  Sunday,  Sept.  16th,  1855. 

We  have  been  obliged  to  fly  the  heat  and  confusion 
of  Pera,  and  find  this  place  very  delightful,  with  cool 
breezes  constantly  coming  down  from  the  Black  Sea. 
The  Bosphorous  is  certainly  wondrously  beautiful :  the 
shore,  on  each  side,  is  one  unbroken  but  irregular  line 
of  white  palaces  with  terraced  gardens,  mosques,  and 
minarets,  reflected  in  the  clear  blue  water.  The  hills 
above  are  covered  with  cypress -trees,  pretty  kiosks, 
gardens,  and  wooded  slopes. 

I  have  as  yet  but  little  to  tell  you  about  the  country, 
as  Edmund  has  been  very  much  engaged,  and  I  have 
not  ventured  upon  any  expedition  alone.  However,  I 
must  first  return  to  the  three  last  days  of  our  stay  at 
Pera. 

The  news  of  the  taking  of  Sebastopol,  which  has 
no  doubt  reached  you  by  this  time,  was  received  with 
great  delight  by  all  here,  excepting  the  Greeks,  who 
were  greatly  enraged  and  disappointed.  The  Emperor 
of  Eussia  being  the  head  of  the  Greek  Church,  they 
looked  forward  to  the  success  of  the  Eussian  cause  as 
their  own ;  and  hating  their  masters  the  Turks,  would 
have  loved  to  see  them,  and  their  friends  the  Allies, 
humiliated. 

The  Bosphorous  on  Monday  morning  presented  a 
gay  and  beautiful  spectacle.  All  the  ships-of-war  and 
crowds  of  merchant-vessels  of  all  nations  were  decked 
with  flags,  and  many  large  and  splendid  ones  floated 
from  the  principal  balconies.  The  roar  of  guns  from 
the  different  vessels  was  tremendous,  enough  to  startle 
the  echoes  of  Olympus,  whose  snows  glittered  brightly 
above  the  clouds  of  smoke. 

Kind  Mrs.  Mysseri  took  me  to  the  terrace  on  the 


ILLUMINATION.  53 

top  of  her  house,  where  I  had  a  splendid  view  of  im 
mense  extent,  almost  too  dazzling  to  be  agreeable.  I 
had  a  pleasant  peep  into  the  Swedish  embassador's 
shady  garden.  On  the  other  side  of  the  hotel  is  what 
was  once  the  Kussian  embassy,  now  a  French  hospital. 
Several  poor  wounded  officers  were  wheeled  in  their 
chairs  into  the  balcony  to  rejoice  with  the  rest.  Two 
or  three  of  them  threw  their  caps  into  the  air  in  their 
joy,  which  they  had  not  strength  to  pick  up  again.  I 
took  a  great  interest  in  watching  these  windows  all 
the  time  I  was  at  Pera,  and  seeing  the  good  Sisters 
of  Charity,  so  busy,  and  seemingly  so  kind  to  all. 
When  they  had  a  little  time  to  spare,  one  or  two 
would  come  out  and  walk  up  and  down  in  an  open 
gallery  just  opposite  my  windows.  Sometimes  they 
talked  quietly  and  gravely  together,  but  generally 
seemed  to  prefer  reading  for  a  few  minutes. 

But  to  return  to  the  rejoicings  of  Monday.  The 
firing  began  again  at  eight  in  the  evening ;  and  as  far 
as  noise  and  the  rattle  of  windows  went,  gave  us  a 
good  idea  of  a  bombardment.  All  the  ships  on  the 
Bosphorus,  and  round  the  Seraglio  Point,  and  in  the 
harbor,  were  illuminated,  far  as  the  eye  could  reach. 
Some  of  the  French  men-of-war  burned  colored  lights. 
It  was  a  beautiful  sight.  Pera  and  Stamboul  glittered 
with  lamps :  palace  and  minaret  illuminated,  not  after 
our  fashion,  but  more  like  pale  clusters  of  stars,  shin 
ing  here  and  there  in  the  deep  gray  light  and  over  the 
shifting  ripples  of  the  sea. 

Presently,  bands  of  Turkish  " music"  paraded  the 

streets ;  and  a  more  barbarous  noise  no  red  Indians 

could  ever  perpetrate.     Edmund  and  I  sallied  forth 

into  the  streets,  for,  as  we  thought,  it  was  a  sight  not 

5* 


54  IN    AND   ABOUND   STAMBOUL. 

to  be  seen  again.  We  bought  a  little  white  paper 
lantern,  lighted  our  taper,  and  joined  the  motley 
crowd. 

Banners  hung,  waving  in  the  night  breeze,  from 
almost  every  balcony  of  the  principal  narrow  street ; 
and  every  window  was  filled  with  lamps,  just  as  we 
put  flowers  into  boxes,  all  along  the  sill.  It  was  a 
most  curious,  fitful  light,  and  the  numbers  of  pic 
turesque  costumes  and  savage  faces  singularly  strik 
ing.  Here  and  there— at  the  French,  Sardinian,  and 
Swedish  Ministers',  the  Turkish  guard-house,  and 
at  the  numerous  caf antes — it  was  quite  a  blaze  of 
light;  and  in  these  places  admiring  crowds  had  so 
congregated,  that  we  were  scarcely  able  to  get  on. 
Presently  a  band  of  French  soldiers,  passing  to  relieve 
guard  somewhere,  cleared  the  way ;  and  putting  our 
selves  into  the  channel  which  they  had  made,  we 
stumbled  over  dirt  and  broken  pavement  until  we 
gladly  found  ourselves  at  Mysseri's  door  again,  close 
by  which  the  miserable-looking  Turkish  guard  was 
turning  out  for  the  night. 


LETTEK    VI. 

THERAPIA — ITS  PLEASANT    CLIMATE — FLEET  AT    ANCHOR    IN    BEICOS    BAY 

DEPTH     AND     CLEARNESS     OF     THE     WATERS     OF    THE     BOSPHORUS 

PHOSPHORESCENT     ILLUMINATION    AT    NIGHT — SAD     INCIDENTS    OF    THE 

WAR WOUNDED     AND     SICK     OFFICERS    ARRIVE     FROM     BALAKLAVA 

THEIR  CONVERSATIONS  ON  THE  ATTACK  OF  THE  KEDAN. 

Tlierapia,  September  SOtli,  1855. 
My  dear  Julia : 

We  find  this  a  very  delightful  place.  Last 
week  it  was  stormy;  and  we  heard  the  wind  very 
much,  as  the  hotel  projects  into  the  Bosphorus,  and 
northern  gales  rush  down  from  the  Black  Sea  with 
tremendous  force.  A  large  fleet  is  lying  at  anchor  at 
Beicos  Bay,  just  opposite  our  windows.  The  lights 
at  the  mast-heads  look  so  curious  at  night,  with  the 
dark  mountainous  ridge  of  Asian  hills  frowning 
grimly  just  behind  them.  A  few  English  vessels  are 
moored  close  to  the  little  causeway  of  our  hotel,  and 
one  can  hear  the  "All's  well"  of  the  watch,  and  the 
bells  chiming  the  quarters.  In  the  daytime  it  is  by 
no  means  an  uncommon  thing  to  see  a  bowsprit  peep 
ing  in  at  your  window,  the  water  is  so  deep  close  in 
shore.  They  tell  me  that  you  can  see  down  to  the 
depth  of  thirty  feet  on  calm  days;  and  it  is  charming 
to  watch  the  different  sorts  of  silvery  and  many-tinted 
fish  swimming  about,  sword-fish  darting  along,  and 
immense  porpoises  gambolling  and  romping  with  the 
bright,  foamy  waves  further  out.  At  night,  every 
ripple,  every  stroke  of  the  oar,  is  a  phosphoric  flash 


56  IN   AND   ABOUND   STAMBOUL. 

of  light ;  and  the  track  of  a  caique  on  the  soft  gray, 
shadowy  water,  is  as  like  a  fairy  phantom  as  any 
thing  which  yon  can  well  conceive.  For  the  last  few 
nights  it  has  been  moonlight,  so  that  we  could  see 
quite  over  to  the  Asian  shore,  and  the  white  marble 
palace  of  the  Pasha  of  Egypt  there.  The  large  stars 
look  down  so  calm  and  clear  upon  this  beautiful  bay, 
on  the  dark  hills  around,  and  on  the  fine  ships  repos 
ing,  as  it  were,  here  and  there,  that  it  is  difficult  in 
deed  to  leave  the  window. 

In  this  place  one  hears  so  much  that  is  sad,  and 
sees  so  much  suffering  in  many  ways,  that,  notwith 
standing  the  numbers  that  are  cheerful  and  gay,  the 
mind  becomes  painfully  impressed  with  all  that  is  and 
has  been  so  distressing  in  this  war.  My  room  was  oc 
cupied  only  a  few  days  ago  by  poor  Mrs. ,  whose 

husband  was  killed  at  the  attack  on  the  Eedan.  She 
was  afterward  brought  down  here  on  her  way  back 
to  England,  and  has  cried  for  hours  (Madame  Patela, 
our  hostess,  tells  me)  in  the  very  arm-chair  in  which 
I  am  now  sitting.  What  increased  the  poignancy  of 
her  grief  was,  that  after  having  endured  agonies  of 
suspense  during  the  attack,  she  was  assured  by  a 
friend  that  her  husband  had  escaped  unhurt ;  and,  in 
the  midst  of  her  joy  and  thankfulness,  he  was  carried 
up  mortally  wounded  and  insensible.  Several  wounded 
and  sick  officers  have  arrived  here  from  Balaklava. 
Three  or  four  of  them  are  well  enough  to  sit  with 
the  rest  of  the  travelers  on  the  divan  in  the  public 
sitting-room.  Now  and  then  they  talked  of  scenes  in 
the  camp  before  Sebastopol,  and  of  incidents  of  the  late 
assault;  but,  generally  speaking,  poor  fellows,  they 
seem  quite  wearied  with  so  much  misery  and  suffer- 


CONVERSATIONS   ON   THE   WAR.  57 

ing,  and  turn  with  the  greatest  relief  and  pleasure 
to  a  chat  about  the  peaceful  scenes  of  England  and 
home.  I  shall  have  many  sad  as  well  as  merry  stories 
to  tell  you  when  we  meet,  if  I  can  but  remember  all 
I  hear. 

Colonel has  just  come  in  from  Sebastopo!, 

well  and  strong,  and  full  of  news  and  conversation. 
Sometimes  I  pause  to  listen,  and  then,  being  anxious 
not  to  miss  this  Mail,  go  on  writing  again,  with  my 
head  somewhat  confused  by  a  description  of  military 
movements,  and  sad,  indignant  comments  on  terrible 
mistakes  and  fatal  mismanagement,  on  which  point 

unfortunately  all  agree.  Captain  (wounded  in 

the  head  at  the  attack  on  the  Eedan,)  is  just  saying 
that  the  English  had  no  business  there,  and  shudders 
as  he  speaks  of  the  numbers  who  fell  around  him.  He 
and  several  others  are  of  opinion  that  we  needed  only 
to  have  supported  the  French  as  they  entered  the 
Malakoff.  The  French  had  easy  work  compared  with 
ours.  They  had  brought  their  earthworks  within  a 
few  feet  of  the  tower ;  ours  were  at  least  two  hundred 
and  eighty  from  the  Kedan ;  and  in  charging  up  that 
space,  our  poor  fellows  were  mowed  down  by  grape 
and  canister. 

The  Malakoff  once  taken,  the  Redan  must  have 
fallen,  as  the  guns  of  the  former  commanded  it ;  so 
it  would  appear  that  all  these  English  troops  were 
thrown  away,  except  for  the  slight  diversion  they 
made  in  favor  of  the  French,  which  was  really  carry 
ing  courtesy  to  our  allies  rather  far.  Captain 

also  says  that  our  men  were  much  spoiled  for  a  des 
perate  assault  by  the  long  and  harassing  time  in  the 
trenches,  and  by  a  habit  which  they  had  necessarily 


58  IN    AND   AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

contracted  there  of  "  sniping,"  as  they  called  it ;  which 
is  ducking  down  the  head  and  shoulders  to  avoid  shot 
and  shell. 

Many  say  that  the  same  men  ought  never  to  have 
been  brought  up  for  an  attack  who  had  been  repulsed 
and  dispirited  before.  But  I  must  not  venture  on 
any  more  recollections  of  military  conversations,  lest 
I  make  mistakes  in  getting  out  of  my  province  so  far, 
only  I  thought  these  particulars  would  interest  you ; 
and  I  believe  that  I  have  reported  them  very  cor 
rectly,  especially  considering  the  crowd  about  me,  all 
talking  of  this  terrible  day,  so  dearly  won. 


LETTEK    VII. 

PLEASANT     MORNINGS     AT     THERAPIA GREEK    FISHERMEN    AND     FELUC 
CAS — SEA-BIRDS,     AND    LEGEND    OF    THE    "AMES    DAMNEES" MANY 

COLORED    FISH    OF    THE    BOSPHORUS — TERRACED    GARDENS SHIPS    RE 
TURNING    FROM    THE    CRIMEA THE   CAMP    AT    BUYUKDERE. 

Therapia,  September  30th,  1855. 

My  dear  Mr.  Hornby : 

You,  who  are  so  fond  of  early  walks,  would 
enjoy  this  sunny  Therapia  of  a  morning.  Nothing 
can  be  more  bright  and  sparkling ;  and  it  is  so 
pleasant  to  be  awakened  by  the  splash  of  oars  just 
under  your  window,  and  then  to  watch  the  gayly- 
dressed  Greek  fishermen  hauling  nets  into  their 
caiques,  quite  silvered  with  fish ;  or  ancient-looking 
feluccas,  with  their  picturesque  crews  and  white  sails 
set,  dashing  over  the  merry  waves  with  boat-loads  of 
wood  for  Stamboul. 

Numberless  sea-gulls  and  sea-swallows  fly  about 
the  Bosphorus ;  but  the  most  remarkable  are  a  small, 
dark- gray  gull,  with  wings  lined  with  a  silvery  white. 
These  are  said  by  the  boatmen  to  be  the  souls  of  the 
guilty  wives  drowned  in  its  waters.  They  are  for 
ever  flying  rapidly  up  and  down,  in  parties  of  twenty 
or  thirty,  and  night  or  day  are  never  seen  to  rest. 
I  cannot  write  the  Turkish  name,  but  the  French 
have  well  translated  it  "  ames  damnees."  Poor  "  lost 
souls."  As  the  punishment  of  drowning  in  the  Bos 
phorus  is  now  almost  abolished,  I  suppose  there  will 
soon  be  no  more,  unless  indeed  no  period  of  release  is 

(59) 


60  IN   AND   AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

granted  them  for  their  punishment  on  earth — no  final 
rest  for  their  poor  tired  wings !  If  so,  a  thousand 
years  hence  the  traveler  may  see  the  same  swift  silver 
shadow  flit  over  the  water  which  startles  me  to-day. 

We  had  a  very  delightful  walk  this  morning  to 
Buyukdere.  The  quay  at  Therapia,  along  the  shore, 
is  so  irregular  and  narrow,  that  when  the  Bosphorus 
suddenly  lashes  itself  into  a  fury,  as  it  often  does,  one 
can  scarcely  escape  a  dash  of  its  waves. 

The  morning  was  calm  and  beautiful ;  the  tints  of 
many-colored  seaweed  reflected  from  far  below.  An 
old  Turk  was  seated  on  a  large  stone,  quietly  fishing. 
He  constantly  pulled  up  fish  of  the  brightest  colors, 
which  in  different  lights  were  certainly  green,  red,  and 
blue.  One  recognized  them  immediately  as  the  fish 
of  the  enchanted  pond  in  the  "  Arabian  Nights." 
I  would  not  have  put  them  into  the  frying-pan  for 
more  than  four  hundred  pieces  of  gold.  The  wall 
would  certainly  have  opened,  and  the  Egyptian  maiden 
have  appeared,  with  her  myrtle  wand  and  mysterious 
beauty ;  and  these  things  startle  quiet  Englishwomen. 
I  would  not  therefore  let  Edmund  enter  into  a  nego 
tiation  to  buy  them ;  and  we  strolled  slowly  on,  with 
the  pleasant  sound  of  waves  on  one  side,  and  of  whis 
pered  voices  on  the  other — for  the  Greek  and  Arme 
nian  women  are  never  tired  of  watching  the  English 
people  as  they  pass  by  their  shady  windows  and 
terraces. 

There  are  some  charming  houses  here.  The  first 
large  one  from  our  hotel  is  that  of  M.  Baltazzi,  a  rich 
Greek  banker.  Through  the  trellis -arches  of  the 
walled  garden  we  caught  a  tantalizing  glimpse  of  the 
loveliest  Eastern  flowers  in  their  fullest  beauty— 


THE    ENGLISH    EMBASSY.  61 

three  terraces,  one  above  another;  the  walls  clothed 
with  luxuriant  creepers,  and  the  hills  of  Therapia 
behind. 

The  French  embassador's  is  a  very  fine  old  house, 
once  belonging  to  Prince  Ypsilanti.  Its  vast  white 
stone  hall  and  fountain,  with  windows  almost  dark 
ened  with  shady  plants  and  flowers,  look  deliciously 
cool  and  pleasant  to  the  passer-by. 

The  English  Embassy  is  more  shut  in,  the  entrance 
being  quite  shaded  with  luxuriant  myrtles  and  other 
shrubs;  but  the  windows  and  terraced  gardens  face 
the  Bosphorus,  and  command  a  lovely  view.  Further 
on  is  a  small  Turkish  battery  and  guard-house,  and 
close  by  a  tiny  mosque  and  fountain,  near  which  we 
sat  down  to  watch  some  English  ships  slowly  steam 
ing  down  from  the  Crimea.  The  decks  were  crowded 
with  troops  (sick  and  wounded  going  to  Scutari  or 
home),  and  in  the  fore-part  of  the  vessels  we  could 
easily  make  out  the  gray  coats  of  Russian  prisoners. 
All  the  poor  fellows  seemed  to  be  admiring  the  beau 
tiful  shores  of  the  Bosphorus ;  and  well  they  might, 
after  the  rugged,  savage  coasts  of  the  Black  Sea. 

What  a  fine  sight  it  is  to  see  ships  thus  passing 
the  ruined  castles  of  Asia,  and  beneath  the  Giant's 
Mountain !  The  barren  hills  and  rocks  of  the  Eu 
ropean  shore  gradually  soften  as  they  approach  the 
beautiful  Bay  of  Buyukdere,  which  must  seem  the 
loveliest  harbor  that  ever  a  weary  ship  furled  sail  in. 
Many  come  down  broken  and  torn  from  the  furious 
tempests  of  the  Black  Sea,  to  cast  anchor  in  the  deep 
blue  water,  mirrored  with  the  row  of  white  palaces 
which  fringe  the  shore,  and  with  the  cypress-trees  and 
vineyards,  and  kiosks  of  the  hills  above. 
6 


62  IN   AND   AKOUND   STAMBOUL. 

Every  scene  is  a  picture  in  itself:  we  thought  so 
this  morning  at  each  turn  of  the  winding  seaside 
path;  whether  looking  on  the  gleaming  Bosphorus 
with  its  mountain -girt  entrance,  ships  sailing  into  the 
beautiful  haven,  and  caiques  flitting  about  among  the 
white  sea-birds ;  or  on  the  many -colored  cliffs  on  our 
left,  tangled  with  brier  and  wild-flowers;  or  on  the 
hills  covered  with  heather  and  arbutus,  on  which 
Bulgarian  shepherds  were  tending  their  flocks  of 
goats  and  sheep. 

Presently  we  came  to  the  gate  of  a  vineyard,  and 
entering  it  made  signs  to  a  poor,  dejected-looking 
Croat,  lying  under  an  old  fig- tree,  that  we  were  both 
tired  and  thirsty.  So  he  pointed  to  his  piece  of  mat 
ting,  which,  with  an  earthen  water -jar,  seemed  to  be 
all  his  household  possessions,  and  went  to  gather 
grapes,  which  he  soon  brought  back  to  us  in  the 
coolest  vine-leaves.  A  Greek  boy  was  strolling  about 
the  vineyard ;  he  spoke  Italian  pretty  well,  and  en 
tered  into  a  friendly  conversation  with  us;  asked 
many  intelligent  questions  about  the  war,  and  said  he 
was  most  anxious  to  enter  into  the  service  of  the 
English,  who  were  "  bravi  genti."  He  gave  me  a 
handful  of  walnuts,  nicely  washed,  and  placing  his 
hand  on  his  heart,  with  the  air  of  a  prince,  hoped  that 
we  might  enjoy  our  luncheon ;  then,  smiling,  he  shut 
the  garden-gate  and  joined  his  companions.  What 
native  grace  there  is  among  the  peasantry  here ! 

Our  rest  in  the  shade,  and  the  grapes,  were  both 
delicious ;  and  our  friend  the  Croat  seemed  to  have 
gained  an  equal  amount  of  satisfaction  by  the  few 
piastres  which  we  offered  in  exchange.  He  seemed 
so  very  poor  and  lonely.  This  vineyard  had  been 


TUEKISH   SOLDIEES.  63 

robbed  by  some  soldiers  of  the  Turkish  Contingent 
two  nights  before,  and  one  of  the  Croat  gardeners  was 
murdered  in  attempting  to  drive  them  off;  at  least,  so 
we  were  told  at  Therapia. 

On  approaching  the  camp  at  Buyukdere,  we  were 
struck  by  a  magnificent  group  of  plane-trees,  by  the 
side  of  the  Bosphorus.  The  soldiers  had  put  seats 
round  one  or  two  of  them ;  a  Greek  cafeejee  had  set 
up  his  stall  near,  and  a  motley  group  were  regaling 
themselves  with  coffee  and  the  everlasting  pipe  under 
the  wide-spreading  boughs.  The  trees  are  called  the 
"  Seven  Brothers ;"  and  tradition  says  that  Godfrey 
de  Bouillon  encamped  beneath  them  in  the  time  of 
the  Crusades.  His  generalship  would  be  rather  sur 
prised  now,  could  he  see  English  officers  trying  to 
drill  the  Sultan's  miserable,  dispirited -looking  men 
into  something  like  soldiers,  to  fight  in  a  common 
cause.  Major  Johnson  was  so  kind  as  to  show  us 
over  the  camp,  a  curious  scene  enough. 

The  valley  was  filled  with  white  tents ;  and  double 
rows  of  oxen,  and  refractory-looking  mules,  were 
tethered  all  around.  Numerous  wild  dogs  were 
prowling  about  the  camp-fires,  round  which  squatted 
some  hideous  black  Arabs,  who  were  cooking  in  large 
iron  pots.  One  could  not  easily  conceive  more  wild 
and  ferocious-looking  creatures  than  were  gathered 
together  here,  as  camp-followers. 

The  Turkish  soldiers  were  thin,  dejected,  and  de- 
based-looking,  to  my  eyes.  I  could  just  believe  in 
their  endurance  behind  earthworks,  or  stone  walls, 
and  that  is  all.  An  English  sergeant  said  to  me,  with 
an  expression  of  profound  contempt,  "  They'll  hang 
back,  ma'am,  as  sure  as  fate,  and  let  all  their  officers 


C4  IN   AND   ABOUND   STAMBOUL. 

be  killed,  if  ever  they  try  to  lead  them  to  a  charge." 
However,  who  can  wonder  at  the  degraded  state  of  the 
poor  Turkish  soldiers,  on  learning  their  miserable, 
hopeless  condition, — ill-paid,  ill-fed,  and  cheated  at 
every  turn  by  their  own  officers  ? 

Perhaps  the  men  of  the  Contingent,  honestly  and 
kindly  treated  as  they  are,  may  improve.  They  are 
now  expecting  to  be  sent  to  Kertch ;  and  the  officers 
have  plenty  of  hard  work  before  them,  if  nothing 
else.  I  was  in  hopes  that  we  might  have  heard  of 
prospects  of  peace,  after  the  fall  of  Sebastopol ;  here 
nothing  is  seen  but  active  preparations  for  war.  The 
cavalry  are  to  winter  at  Scutari.  Everybody  is  mad 
for  news,  both  here  and  at  Constantinople.  It  seems 
strange  that  we  should  be  longing  for  what  is  authentic 
from  England.  Officers  grumble  about  their  friends 
in  the  Crimea  not  writing,  and  then  again  excuse 
them  by  saying,  "  Well,  I  suppose  they  are  so  busy." 


LETTEE    VIII. 

VALLEY    OF    THE    SWEET    WATERS— PICTURESQUE    GROUPS    OF    TURKISH 

WOMEN — THE  SULTAN'S  DAUGHTER — TURKISH  BELLES  AND  BABIES — 

TURKISH  CARRIAGES ARABAS  AND  TELEKIS VENDORS  OF    DIFFERENT 

WARES     IN     THE     VALLEY BOILED     INDIAN     CORN MUSICIANS ANA 
TOLIAN    SHEPHERD— ENGLISH  SAILORS — "BONO   JOHNNY" THE  YOUNG 

PASHA THE    VALLEY    AT    SUNSET. 

Therapia,  October  26th,  1855. 

My  dear  Julia : 

On  Friday  we  went  in  a  caique  to  the  Valley 
of  the  Sweet  Waters  of  Asia"— the  Turkish  Hyde 
Park.  It  is  a  charming  spot,  shut  in  by  ranges 
of  hills  on  three  sides,  with  the  Bosphorus  glittering 
before  it,  and  a  fine  view  of  the  opposite  castles  of 
Europe,  with  their  ivy-covered  walls  and  towers.  We 
landed  on  a  kind  of  terrace,  beyond  which  was  a  very 
large  white  marble  fountain,  looking,  as  all  fountains 
do  here,  like  a  square-built  temple,  ornamented  with 
inscriptions  in  colored  and  golden  letters.  A  stream 
of  water  fell  from  each  side  into  a  deep  tank,  out  of 
which  some  poor  Turkish  women  were  filling  their 
little  earthen  water -jars.  Further  on,  under  the  shade 
of  some  magnificent  plane-trees,  sat  the  women  of  a 
higher  class,  on  cushions  which  their  slaves  had 
brought  from  the  caiques. 

Nothing,  in  point  of  coloring  and  grouping,  could 
be  more  strikingly  beautiful  than  these  clusters  of 
women  by  the  trees  and  fountain.  Imagine  five  or 
six  in  a  row ;  their  jet-black  eyes  shining  through 

6*  (65) 


()()  IN    AND   AKOUND   STAMBOUL. 

their  white  vails,  Tinder  which  you  can  see  the  gloom 
of  jewels  which  confine  their  hair  (often  dressed,  by- 
the«bye,  very  much  d  la  Eugenie}.  Your  first  impres 
sion  is,  that  they  look  just  like  a  bed  of  splendid 
flowers.  The  lady  at  the  top  of  the  row  of  cushions, 
and  evidently  the  chief  wife,  is  dressed  in  a  feridjee 
cloak  of  the  palest  pink,  edged  with  black  velvet  or 
silver  ;  her  face  and  neck  all  snow-white  gauze,  under 
which  gleams  a  silver  wreath  or  sprigs  of  jewels :  for 
the  yashmak  in  these  days  is  so  transparent  as  rather 
to  add  to  the  beauty  of  the  wearer  than  to  hide 
it.  She  generally  carries  a  large  fan  of  peacocks'  fea 
thers,  both  sides  of  the  fan  alike.  The  next  is  ar 
rayed  in  the  palest  straw-color,  shot  with  white  ;  then 
perhaps  follows  an  emerald-green,  edged  with  gold ; 
and  by  her  side  a  lovely  violet.  The  white  yashmak 
contrasts  prettily  with  all  these  colors.  The  feridjees 
of  the  slaves  are  often  of  a  bright  yellow  or  scarlet, 
edged  with  black,  which,  with  the  few  dressed  in 
darkest  brown  and  green,  harmonize  perfectly  with 
the  light  and  delicate  colors. 

The  Turkish  women  have  certainly  wonderful  art 
in  blending  colors.  In  fact  I  hardly  know  how  my 
eyes  will  bear  a  return  to  England.  Here  the  water, 
the  sky,  the  houses,  the  dresses,  the  boats  are  so  gay 
and  beautiful — the  cypress-trees  and  the  valleys  so 
rich  and  green. 

The  Valley  of  the  Sweet  Waters  takes  its  name 
from  a  small  stream  which  winds  through  it  and  falls 
into  the  Bosphorus  just  above  the  fountain  I  men 
tioned.  The  water  of  this  stream  is  highly  prized 
for  its  purity,  but,  owing  to  the  heavy  rains  of  a  day 
or  two  before,  it  was  now  rather  muddy.  So  I 


TURKISH   LADIES.  67 

braved  the  anger  of  the  nymph  of  the  spring  by  re 
fusing  to  taste  of  its  tiny  waves,  but  invoked  of  her 
health  and  beauty  for  the  poor  Turkish  women — for 
it  is  their  only  possession — and  gave  up  my  place  to 
a  vailed  lady  who  was  trying  to  drink  without  show 
ing  her  face,  which  seemed  to  be  a  difficult  process. 
We  then  walked  through  the  valley,  and  watched  the 
beautiful  effect  of  light  and  shade  upon  the  surround 
ing  hills,  crowned  with  cypress  and  other  trees,  and 
with  here  and  there  a  pretty  kiosk  and  garden.  There 
are  no  roads  here ;  so  by  a  lane  that  would  shame 
the  roughest  in  Ireland,  came  the  Sultan's  married 
daughter — married  to  Aali  Grhalib  Pasha,  the  son  of 
Beschid  Pasha.  Edmund  helped  Lady  Robinson 
into  some  brambles  on  the  steep  bank ;  I  was  already 
safely  wedged  in  the  roots  of  an  old  fig-tree,  and  thus 
we  quietly  awaited  the  passage  of  the  Asiatic  beauties. 
First  came  three  or  four  men  on  horseback,  in 
handsomely  braided  uniforms,  and  fezzes  of  course. 
Then  two  mounted  negroes  (more  frightful  specimens 
of  that  race  I  never  saw)  armed  with  long  swords  ; 
then  the  carriage,  a  very  droll  imitation  of  an  English 
one,  most  grotesquely  ornamented  ;  the  harness  cov 
ered  with  silver,  and  the  reins  red.  Two  grooms, 
in  ugly,  badly-fitting  uniforms  of  blue  and  silver, 
guiding  the  horses,  which  were  gray,  and  of  match 
less  beauty  and  gentleness.  The  coachman  was  a 
droll-looking  make-up,  of  English  clothes  (much  too 
small  for  him)  and  Turkish  fez  and  fat.  I  heard  that 
this  equipage  is  considered  a  wonderful  display  of 
elegance  and  civilization,  and  it  was  evidently  greatly 
admired.  We  could  not  see  much  of  the  lady  (who 
is  said  to  be  very  lovely),  the  negroes  keeping  close 


68  IN    AND   ABOUND   STAMBOUL. 

to  the  windows,  as  they  splashed  up  the  mud  all 
over  their  uniforms  ;  besides  which  her  yashmak  was 
thickly  folded.  I  could  only  see  plainly  her  beau 
tiful  fan  of  snow-white  feathers,  the  handle  glittering 
with  emeralds. 

The  lady  on  the  opposite  seat  (there  were  three  in 
the  carriage)  was  more  thinly  vailed,  very  young,  and 
very  pretty.  I  saw  her  face  plainly,  and  her  feridjee 
being  a  little  off  her  shoulders,  I  threw  an  envious 
glance  on  a  violet-colored  velvet  jacket  embroidered 
with  gold,  and  fastened  at  the  throat  with  a  large 
jeweled  clasp,  which  gleamed  through  the  gauzy  vail. 
As  to  beauty  of  mere  dress  and  ease  of  attitude,  no 
thing  that  I  have  seen  in  life  or  in  pictures  can  give 
the  slightest  idea  of  the  wonderful  grace,  the  extreme 
delicacy,  and  bird-of-paradiselike  uselessness  of  the 
Turkish  belle.  Women  of  rank  look  like  hot-house 
flowers,  and  are  really  cultivated  to  the  highest  per 
fection  of  physical  beauty,  having  no  other  employ 
ment  but  to  make  their  skins  as  snow-white  and  their 
eyebrows  as  jet-black  as  possible.  When  young  their 
skin  is  literally  as  white  as  their  vails,  with  the.  faint 
est  tinge  of  pink  on  the  cheek,  like  that  in  the  inside 
of  a  shell,  which  blends  exquisitely  with  the  tender 
apple-leaf  green,  and  soft- violet  colors,  of  which  they 
are  so  fond. 

The  reverse  of  the  picture  is,  that  after  the  first 
bloom  of  youth  is  passed,  the  skin  becomes  yellow  and 
sickly-looking,  and  you  long  to  give  the  yashmak  a 
pull  and  admit  a  fresh  breeze  to  brighten  up  the  fine 
features. 

A  belle,  and  a  beauty  too,  the  Turkish  woman  must 
be ;  for  nothing  can  be  more  wretched  than  to  see  the 


TURKISH   EQUIPAGES.  69 

poor  things  attempting  to  walk,  or  to  make  herself  at 
all  useful.  She  shuffles  along  the  ground  exactly  like 
an  embarrassed  paroquette,  looking  as  if  her  loose 
garments  must  inevitably  flutter  off  at  the  next  step. 
The  drapery  which  falls  so  gracefully  and  easily  about 
her  in  a  carriage,  or  while  reclining  on  cushions,  seems 
untidy  and  awkward  when  she  is  moving  about. 
In  fact,  if  she  is  not  a  beauty,  and  is  not  the  property 
of  a  rich  man,  she  is  the  most  miserable-looking 
creature  in  creation.  It  is  the  drollest  thing  in  the 
world  to  see  a  poor  Turkish  woman  rolling  along  with 
her  baby ;  just  preventing  it  from  falling  into  the  gut 
ter,  her  loose  yellow  slipper  from  falling  off  at  every 
step,  her  yashmak  from  showing  too  much  of  her  face, 
her  feridjee  from  flying  away,  and  her  open- worked 
stockings  (which  are  generally  full  of  holes  if  she  has 
any)  from  getting  splashed  in  the  terrible  filth  of  the 
roads,  or  rather  dirty  alleys. 

The  babies  are  wonderful  little  bundles  of  fat,  un- 
comfortableness,  and  finery.  They  hardly  seem  like 
babies  at  all,  generally  having  an  old  look,  with  very 
white  faces  and  very  black  eyes.  They  are  to  us  also 
an  unnatural  sort  of  babies,  dressed  in  jacket  and 
trowsers.  They  eat  cucumbers  and  chestnuts,  and 
are  "  nursed"  at  the  same  time.  They  wear  richly 
jeweled  fezzes  and  ragged  shoes,  and  are  altogether 
wonderful  little  illustrations  of  Eastern  inconsistency 
and  incompleteness,  finery  and  untidiness. 

The  most  curious -looking  equipages  at  the  Sweet 
Waters  are  the  arabas,  a  huge  kind  of  wagon,  made 
of  dark  oak,  rudely  carved  and  ornamented,  and  drawn 
by  two  white  oxen,  caparisoned  in  the  most  fantastic 
manner.  The  collars,  four  or  five  feet  high,  are  cov- 


70  IN  AND  AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

ered  with  scarlet  tassels,  and  long  crimson  cords  run 
from  the  collar  to  the  tail  of  the  animals,  which  they 
hold  up  most  becomingly  in  a  kind  of  festoon.  Bound 
the  neck  of  each  ox  is  a  string  of  blue  or  many -col 
ored  beads,  as  a  charm  against  the  evil-eye ;  and  the 
forehead  and  each  cheek  of  the  gentle  animals  is 
slightly  tinged  with  red  paint.  A  handsome  canopy  of 
scarlet  cloth,  (sometimes  even  of  velvet),  embroidered 
with  gold  and  trimmed  with  gold  fringe,  protects  the 
vailed  ladies,  children,  and  black  slaves  inside  from 
the  sun.  The  large  cushions  of  the  araba  are  often 
made  of  the  same  rich  materials ;  so  I  leave  you  to 
imagine  what  a  mixture  of  magnificence  and  extreme 
rudeness  is  to  be  seen  here. 

The  bright  fans  and  parasols  beneath  the  awning 
of  this  strange  equipage  nutter  gayly  in  the  breeze ; 
and  thus  a  charming  picture  of  Eastern  out-door  life 
does  this  valley  present  on  a  day  of  golden  sunshine, 
with  the  dark  blue  Bosphorus  on  one  side,  and  the 
beautiful  hills  of  Asia  on  the  other. 

But  here  comes  a  teleki  tumbling  along  full  of 
ladies ;  and  Edmund  excites  some  surprise  among  its 
vailed  occupants,  by  removing,  with  the  help  of  a 
stout  stick,  a  large  stone  over  which  the  carriage  of 
the  sultan's  daughter,  numerous  arabas,  and  many  a 
pedestrian  had  stumbled,  (and  no  doubt  for  months 
before),  just  at  the  entrance  of  the  valley,  notwith 
standing  the  crowd  of  Turkish  servants  and  sturdy 
negroes  standing  about.  A  teleki  is  very  like  the 
Cinderella's  pumpkin-carriage  of  children's  story-books  ; 
only  I  don't  believe  that  any  one  could  wear  glass 
slippers  in  them  now  ;  for  they  are  perfectly  innocent 
of  springs,  and  jolt  frightfully  over  the  wretched 


BOILED   INDIAN   CORN — MUSICIANS.  71 

roads.  There  is  seldom  any  place  for  the  driver,  this 
functionary  holding  the  reins  at  full  length,  and  run 
ning  by  the  side  of  the  horses.  He  is  generally 
splashed  all  over  with  mud,  or  covered  with  dust,  but 
has  plenty  of  embroidery  on  his  coat. 

Scattered  about  the  valley  are  vendors  of  different 
wares,  and  it  is  most  amusing  to  watch  them.  Here 
is  a  venerable  Turk  of  the  old  school,  with  a  stately 
turban  and  silvery  beard,  selling  sweatmeats  with  the 
air  of  a  prince.  There  an  Egyptian,  with  potteries 
from  Egypt,  consisting  of  little  vases  and  water-bot 
tles,  in  which  we  invested  a  few  piastres.  There  is  a 
wood  fire,  over  which  a  Greek,  in  gay  costume,  has 
slung  an  immense  iron  pot,  in  which  heads  of  Indian 
corn  are  gently  stewing.  The  poorer  Turkish  women, 
strolling  about  on  foot,  stop  to  buy.  I  thought  I 
should  like  to  taste  one ;  and  a  good-natured  negress, 
a  miracle  of  hideousness,  with  a  grin  meant  to  be 
fascinating,  gave  me  the  iron  hook  (which  she  had 
just  secured),  to  fish  one  out  for  myself,  which  seemed 
to  be  considered  the  rare  thing.  However,  I  did  not 
at  all  appreciate  the  dainty,  and  soon  contrived  to 
throw  it  away  unseen.  Here  is  a  Greek  stand  of  toys, 
windmills,  Jacks-in-the-box,  and  eccentric -looking 
birds  and  beasts  in  gorgeous  array.  The  Greek,  who 
is  a  handsome  young  fellow,  calls  out :  "  Buy,  Johnny, 
buy  1"  to  the  English  passers-by,  and  looks  very  proud 
of  his  knowledge  of  the  language.  I  thought  how 
pleased  Edith  would  be  with  all  this. 

Now  we  come  to  a  band  of  "  musicians"  seated  on 
the  turf,  and  making,  to  our  ears,  the  most  atrocious 
noise  that  ever  set  a  human  being's  teeth  on  edge.  A 
groaning  tambourine,  a  drum,  and  a  little  three- 


72  IN   AND   ABOUND   STAMBOUL. 

stringed  instrument  of  torture,  something  like  a  guitar, 
with  some  flutes  as  high  and  shrill  as  the  screeching 
of  a  kite,  form  the  combination  of  horrible  sounds  to 
which  the  men,  in  a  nasal  twang,  scream  some  legend 
or  tale,  at  the  top  of  their  voice,  just  as  long  as  any 
one  remains  to  listen.  We  were  there,  in  the  valley, 
for  three  hours,  and  on  leaving,  the  Sultan's  daughter 
was  listening  still,  the  slaves  seated  on  the  turf,  drink 
ing  coffee  and  stretching  themselves  quite  at  their  ease. 
Now  we  meet  the  Austrian  embassador  and  his  staff, 
who  have  been  looking  with  surprise  and  interest  at  a 
most  savage-looking  Dervish,  dressed  as  an  Anatolian 
shepherd,  and  who,  attired  in  black  sheepskins,  and 
leaning  on  a  knotty  club,  which  Jack  might  have 
taken  from  the  giants,  surveyed  the  passing  scene 
from  beneath  an  old  fig-tree  on  the  bank,  his  wild  eyes 
half  hidden  with  hair,  as  matted  and  as  dark  as  his 
beard.  Now  we  pass  three  or  four  French  officers  in 
full  regimentals,  looking  at  the  ladies  in  the  coolest 
and  most  persevering  manner  possible  ;  utterly  regard 
less  of  the  fierce  looks  of  some  of  the  armed  negroes, 
who  mutter  "  Giaour"  between  their  teeth,  and  roll  the 
whites  of  their  eyes.  Edmund  is  now  struck  by  a 
band  of  Greek  women  with  wreaths  on  their  heads,  but 
an  unfortunate  attempt  in  the  rest  of  their  dress 
to  look  like  Frenchwomen,  which  does  not  suit  them 
at  all. 

Yonder  is  a  coffee-stall,  and  two  English  sailors  with 
tiny  China  cups  in  their  huge  fingers,  trying  to  drink 
sugarless  coffee  as  if  they  liked  it,  and  conversing  flu 
ently  with  the  grave,  dark-eyed  Turk,  by  the  aid  of 
"Bono"  and  "Johnny"  and  plenty  of  broad,  eloquent 
smiles.  By  the  way,  the  Turks  call  the  English,  male 


YOUNG   TURKEY.  78 

and  female,  "Johnny,"  and  the  French  "  Disdonc;"  all 
commercial  transactions  being  carried  on  in  the  most 
marvelous  manner,  often  by  the  sole  aid  of  these  two 
words. 

And  now  un vailed,  because  she  is  only  about  twelve 
years  old,  attended  by  two  negresses  and  an  armed 
Turk,  comes  a  Pasha's  daughter.  The  dress  and  trou 
sers  are  of  a  thick  kind  of  gauze,  of  a  pale  salmon- 
color,  and  sprigged  with  silver.  A  green  velvet  cap, 
beautifully  embroidered,  covers  her  head,  and  her  hair 
hangs  down  her  back  in  numerous  plaits,  the  ends  of 
which  are  frizzed  out  very  roughly.  Her  shoes  are 
of  embroidered  yellow  leather,  with  peaks  turning  up 
in  front,  and  she  seems  very  proud  of  her  gay-colored 
French  parasol.  This  little  belle  shuffles  languidly 
along,  sometimes  speaking  a  few  words  to  her  attend 
ants,  who  seem  to  adore  her. 

Here  is  a  teleki,  drawn  up  under  the  shade  of  a  large 
walnut-tree  at  the  end  of  the  valley.  The  horses  are 
taken  out,  and  fighting  with  a  party  of  mules  tethered 
by  the  hedge ;  but  nobody  takes  any  notice  of  them, 
and  the  drivers  are  asleep,  or  smoking  quietly  at  a  dis 
tance  on  the  grass. 

Inside  this  teleki  are  four  Turks,  smoking  long  chi 
bouques  (which  project  out  of  the  door- window),  as 
placidly  as  if  it  were  the  only  business  or  delight  in 
life.  A  languid  wave  of  the  hand  brings  another 
party  of  "  musicians,"  who  forthwith  squat  down  be 
tween  the  hedge  and  the  wheels,  and  begin  their  horrid 
noise.  A  Pasha's  son  rides  listlessly  up  on  his  little 
Mytelene  pony,  to  listen  to  them.  I  was  particularly 
struck  with  this  young  gentleman,  as  a  specimen  of 
"Young  Turkey."  He  wore  a  jacket  and  trousers 


74  IN   AND   AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

(after  the  English  shape)  of  fine  scarlet  cloth,  the  jacket 
so  splendidly  embroidered  with  gold  as  to  be  quite  re 
splendent  in  the  sun.  Over  his  shoulder  a  golden  bal 
dric  ;  his  sword-sheath  was  of  black  and  gold,  the  hilt 
shining  with  gems ;  his  fez  a  plain  dark  crimson  one, 
with  the  usual  purple  tassel.  A  huge  slave  stood 
beside  the  pony,  which  was  splendidly  caparisoned  and 
very  dirty,  and  the  little  Pasha  leaned  languidly  on 
his  shoulder,  as  if  it  was  too  great  an  exertion  for  him 
to  listen  to  the  "music"  sitting  upright  in  his 
saddle.  Presently  he  seemed  to  intimate  that  he  had 
heard  enough ;  so  the  slave  led  his  pony  to  an  araba, 
at  the  side  of  which  he  dismounted,  his  mimic  golden 
sword  dangling  about  his  little  feet  as  he  languidly 
threw  himself  into  the  laps  of  the  ladies,  who  over 
whelmed  him  with  caresses.  Such  are  the  rich  here — 
enervated  from  their  earliest  youth. 

"  How  I  should  enjoy  whipping  that  boy !"  ex 
claimed  an  English  gentleman  of  our  party.  Perhaps 
he  coveted  the  sweets,  we  said,  with  which  the  young 
Pasha  was  now  being  regaled. 

And  now,  my  dear  Julia,  I  think  I  have  given  you 
as  good  a  rough  and  hurried  sketch  of  a  Turkish 
out-door  scene  as  I  can  well  do  in  a  letter.  At  any 
rate  you  can  depend  upon  its  accuracy.  The  evening 
sun  was  resting  upon  it  in  full  brilliancy,  and  all  the 
Eastern  gorgeousness  of  purple  and  gold,  as  we  walked 
back  to  the  crowds  of  caiques  in  waiting.  Our  eyes 
lingered  long  on  the  splendid  groups  still  seated  by  the 
fountain,  and  under  the  trees  just  tinged  with  the  first 
shades  of  autumn.  It  was  a  beautiful  sight. 


LETTEE    IX. 

NEWS  FROM  HOME — INVALIDS  FROM  SCUTARI  AND  THE  CRIMEA — CHAT 
ABOUT  THE  WAR SARDINIAN  AND  FRENCH  OFFICERS THE  COMMIS 
SARIAT SCENERY  OF  THE  CRIMEA RAMBLE  THROUGH  THE  SULTAN 'S 

VALLEY ANCIENT  PLANE-TREES  AND  FOUNTAIN DINNER  ON  BOARD 

THE  "ELBA" — BUYUKDERE  AT  NIGHT. 

Therapia,  November  8th,  1855. 
My  dear  Mother : 

On  Tuesday  last  we  had  the  great  pleasure  of 
receiving  a  packet  of  letters  from  England.  The  mail- 
boat  had  been  detained  at  the  Dardanelles,  owing  to 
some  accident  to  her  screw,  and  we  had  been  anxiously 
expecting  news  from  home.  Edmund  happened  to  be 
out  when  our  letters  were  sent  in  from  the  Embassy, 
and  he  found  me  reading  my  share  in  high  glee. 
Presently  we  came  to  the  books  and  parcel  of  news 
papers,  for  which  we  return  many  thanks.  The  papers, 
especially,  are  a  great  treat ;  and  here  we  are  just  like 
girls  and  boys  at  school  sharing  all  the  news  and 
books  which  come  from  home.  Each  floor  in  these 
Greek  and  Turkish  houses  forms  a  very  large  apart 
ment  (safaamlik).  The  upper  end  is  all  windows,  with 
divans,  or  low  broad  sofas  underneath  them ;  so  that 
you  recline  quite  at  your  ease,  and  see  all  that  is 
passing  on  the  Bosphorus.  On  each  side  of  this  room 
are  the  different  private  apartments,  at  least  bedrooms ; 
for  the  hotel  is  so  crowded  just  now,  that  a  private 
sitting-room  is  quite  out  of  the  question — except  for 
one  lady  who  is  alone  here,  waiting  for  her  husband's 

(75) 


76  IN   AND   AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

return  from  Sebastopol.  So  when  we  have  any  papers, 
or  any  pleasant  books,  we  put  our  contribution  also 
on  the  table  of  this  public  room ;  and  there  is  always 
some  one  grateful  for  a  little  news  from  England, 
some  one  sent  down  sick  from  the  Crimea,  or  just  es 
caped  from  the  hospital  at  Scutari,  and  glad  of  a  pleas 
ant  hour's  reading.  If  you  want  to  write  here,  you 
must  resolutely  shut  yourself  up  in  your  own  bed 
room  ;  for  it  is  impossible  to  close  your  ears  to  tales 
of  war  by  sea  and  land,  to  hairbreadth  escapes,  to 
every  thing,  in  short,  that  is  amusing,  frightful,  horri 
ble.  I  am  out  a  great  deal,  but  occasionally  listen 
with  much  interest  to  the  conversation  of  the  salaamlik. 

Several  invalids  have  arrived.  Many  who  have 
borne  up  bravely  through  all  kinds  of  privation  and 
suffering  during  the  siege,  have  totally  knocked  up* 
since  the  taking  of  Sebastopol. 

Poor  Mr.  Petre,  of  the  6th  Dragoon  Guards,  is 
lying  on  the  divan  as  helpless  as  a  child,  from  the 
effects  of  fever.  I  often  sit  with  him  of  a  morning, 
and  it  seems  to  cheer  him  up  to  talk  about  getting 
back  to  England  and  his  friends,  and  seeing  his  favor 
ite  horses  and  dogs  once  more.  He  cannot  dine  at 
the  toble-cPMte  of  course,  and  always  looks  for  a  very 
ripe  peach,  or  bunch  of  grapes,  from  me  on  my  re 
turn.  Sometimes  I  leave  the  table  earlier,  and  take 
my  coffee  with  him,  for  the  evening  seems  his  sad 
dest  time.  A  young  officer,  who  was  among  the  first 
in,  and  almost  the  first  cut  down  at  the  assault  on 
the  Eedan,  has  been  here.  He  was  severely  wounded 
and  very  ill  when  he  first  came,  but  seems  one  of  those 
blest  with  a  "  wonderful  constitution ;"  for  he  has  re 
covered  rapidly,  and  is  already  off  to  England.  He 


CHAT  ABOUT  THE   WAK.  77 

is  missed  here  very  much,  especially  by  the  invalids 
for  he  was  full  of  spirits  and  fun.  His  description 
of  the  great  storm  in  the  Crimea,  when  all  the  tents 
were  blown  down,  rivaled  that  of  the  "  Times"  cor 
respondent.  His  sketch  of  a  dandy  trying  to  bale 
the  muddy  water  out  of  his  cherished  tent  with  a  tin 
rmug,  all  his  fine  things  swimming  about,  and  two 
impudent  stray  geese  in  the  midst,  rejoicing  at  the 
increasing  floods,  made  even  the  gravest  of  us  almost 
die  of  laughing.  In  fact,  I  often  wish  for  a  short 
hand  writer  here,  for  a  great  deal  of  the  conversa 
tion  which  we  hear  on  "our  divan"  would  be  well 
worth  remembering,  grave,  gay,  and  political;  but. of 
course  every  thing  relating  to  the  war  predominates. 
There  are  five  Sardinian  officers  staying  here,  re 
markable  gentlemanly,  well-informed  men,  and  a  few 
French.  All  the  French  officers  whom  we  have  seen 
give  one  the  idea  of  real  soldiers — soldiers  in  earnest, 
and  the  right  men  in  the  right  place ;  but  generally 
they  are  by  no  means  as  polished  as  our  English 
officers. 

We  dined  on  board  an  English  steamer  the  other 
day,  and  after  dinner  I  walked  up  and  down  the  deck 
with  the  captain.  He  is  a  rather  bluff,  but  kind- 
hearted  man,  and  told  me  that,  much  as  he  had  been 
knocked  about  in  a  long  service,  the  most  miserable 
part  of  his  life  was  when  our  army  first  landed  in  the 

Crimea.     He  was  then  in  command  of  the ,  and 

said,  what  every  one  knows,  that  finer  and  braver 
fellows  were  never  seen  than  those  he  had  on  board. 
For  some  absurd  reason,  or  for  no  reason  at  all,  they 
were  not  allowed  to  take  their  tents  on  shore,  although 
it  could  have  been  done  with  the  greatest  ease.  A 


78  IN   AND   AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

tremendous  rain  came  on  in  the  evening — "such  a 
soaking  cold  rain,"  said  the  captain,  "as  you  never 
saw  or  felt."  Our  poor  men,  as  every  one  knows, 
'slept'  out  in  it  all,  after  having  just  left  a  crowded 
and  hot  ship.  The  wood  and  sticks  which  they  were 
able  to  collect,  were  of  course  as  wet  as  the  shore 
itself.  So  they  passed  the  night.  In  the  morning 
hundreds  of  sick  men  were  sent  on  board  different 

vessels — to  die.     Captain told  me  that  he  buried 

from  his  ship  ninety  men  in  thirty  hours.  The  chap 
lain  could  do  no  more  than  hurry  from  one  service  to 
another ;  and  three  or  four  poor  fellows  at  a  time  were 
plunged  over  the  ship's  side.  However,  I  dare  say 
you  have  read  all  this  in  the  papers,  and  it  is  too 
terrible  a  subject  to  dwell  upon.  The  French  not 
only  had  their  tents  put  up  for  the  night,  but  their 
bedding,  means  for  getting  hot  water  and  a  comforting 
cup  of  coffee  before  going  to  sleep.  They  said  that  on 
such  a  night,  even  with  that,  it  was  bad  enough.  But 
I  must  stop  my  pen,  as  usual.  If  I  were  to  write  you 
all  I  hear  of  cruel  mismanagement,  it  would  fill  a  vol 
ume — not  a  letter.  Our  traveling  friends,  Mr.  Newall 
and  Mr.  Bell,  returned  from  the  Crimea  6n  Saturday 
last,  and  came  to  see  us  directly  the  "Elba"  cast 
anchor  in  the  Bosphorus.  They  have  been  extremely 
interested  in  all  they  have  seen. 

After  finishing  the  telegraph  to  Eupatoria,  which 
nearly  frightened  the  Turks  out  of  their  wits,  as  they 
firmly  believed  it  to  be  a  work  of  the  Evil  One,  they 
explored  Sebastopol,  or  rather  its  ruins,  and  then 
rambled  forty  miles  inland.  They  are  quite  charmed 
with  the  beautiful  valleys  of  Baidar  and  Alucca,  and 
have  made  some  capital  sketches.  I  do  hope  to  go 


SULTAN'S  VALLEY.  79 

up  there  before  our  return  to  England,  and  to  see  the 
vast  steppes  and  fine  ranges  of  that  part  of  the  world. 
This  morning  the  "  Elba's  "  boat  took  us  over  to  the 
Asiatic  shore,  and  we  had  a  delightful  walk  through 
the  celebrated  "  Sultan's  "Valley."  Just  at  the  entrance 
of  the  ruined  kiosk  the  French  have  built  some  wooden 
bar  rack -sheds,  and  numbers  of  soldiers  were  lying  on 
the  grass,  or  washing,  up  to  their  knees,  in  the  waters 
of  a  little  stream. 

Further  up  in  the  valley  are  a  number  of  ancient 
and  magnificent  plane-trees.  I  stepped  twenty-five 
long  paces  round  two  or  three  of  them,  so  you  may 
fancy  their  huge  girth.  Several  of  them  are  hollow, 
and  the  soldiers  have  contrived  cosy  little  dwelling- 
places  of  these  "  giant  boles."  One  of  them  was  com 
fortably  lined  with  pieces  of  matting ;  several  little 
brackets  were  put  up  within  reach,  for  the  tin  mug 
and  pipe ;  and  above  all  the  name  of  the  tenant  was 
carved  in  fanciful  letters  deep  in  the  rugged  bark, 
MORIEK,  1855. 

This  valley  reminds  one  of  the  Happy  Valley  of 
Easselas, — just  its  mountainous  hills  all  around,  just 
its  delicious  shade,  and  tinkling  streams.  In  the 
centre  of  it  is  a  large  white  marble  fountain,  adorned 
with  inscriptions  from  the  Koran  (which  it  is  always 
provoking  not  to  be  able  to  read ;)  and  beneath  the 
plane-trees  shading  it,  several  Turks  were  resting 
themselves.  They  had  been  loading  the  Seraskier's 
horses  with  water  from  this  famous  spring,  and  the 
whole  party  seemed  averse  to  leave  so  cool  and  charm 
ing  a  spot. 

At  a  little  distance,  at  the  foot  of  a  hill,  sat  a  Turkish 
shepherd,  calmly  regarding  alternately  his  sleeping 


80  IN   AND   AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

flock  of  sheep  and  goats,  and  the  party  of  "  Giaours," 
walking  briskly  in  the  sultry  heat  of  the  day,  a  pro 
ceeding  which  I  dare  say  he  considered  as  indicative 
of  insanity.  However,  we  returned  to  the  good  ship 
"  Elba  "  with  excellent  appetites. 

An  immense  bunch  of  mistletoe  hung  in  the  cabin, 
which  grew  but  a  few  days  before  on  an  ancient  tree 
in  the  Crimea,  but  is  now  destined  for  the  Christmas 
fete  of  Mr.  Newall's  children  in  England.  After  din 
ner  the  toast  in  champagne  was  "  Home,  and  may  we 
all  meet  there  again  !"  Just  then,  I  don't  know  how 
it  was,  one  of  the  officers  of  the  ship  mentioned,  that 
below,  in  his  coffin,  lay  the  body  of  poor  Colonel 
Maule,  who  was  killed  in  the  Crimea.  So  terribly  do 
gay  and  painful  scenes  mingle  here  just  now !  It  gave 
me  quite  a  shock,  and  I  was  glad  to  retreat  on  deck. 

Buyukdere  is  indeed  a  lovely  sight  at  night,  with 
the  lights  of  the  ship  lying  in  the  bay,  and  afar  off, 
twinkling  in  kiosks  high  on  the  dark  hills,  and  fring 
ing  the  ripples  on  the  shore.  "  Would  you  not  fancy 
this  was  a  Paradise  ?"  said  I  to  a  sailor -friend  of 
mine,  who  was  quietly  leaning  over  the  ship's  side. 
"Yes,  ma'am,  so  long  as  you  didn't  land,"  was  the 
reply.  I  passed  the  cook's  cabin ;  that  functionary 
and  his  man  were  "washing-up,"  but  he  came  out 
to  say  good  evening  to  me.  I  asked  him  how  he 
liked  the  Crimea,  and  then  said  how  much  we  had 
enjoyed  the  English  dinner.  "As  to  the  plum-pud 
ding,"  I  said,  "  coming  in  on  fire  too,  and  with  a  piece 
of  mistletoe  (Crimean  though  it  was)  stuck  in  it,  I 
could  really  have  almost  fancied  myself  in  England 
again.  Mr.  Cook  (a  great  rough  fellow,  with  a  beard 
up  to  his  eyes)  was  quite  touched  at  my  praise  of  his 


BUYUKDEKE   AT   NIGHT.  81 

dinner,  although  he  declared  it  was  not  what  he  could 
have  made  it  with  "  more  properer  things."  "  But  to 
hear  an  English  lady  say  she  has  enjoyed  a  pudding 
of  my  making,  pleases  me  more  than  any  thing  has 
since  the  '  Elba'  came  to  these  heathenish  parts,"  he 
exclaimed.  I  was  very  much  amused  at  this. 

The  gentlemen  soon  left  the  cabin,  and  we  walked 
on  the  upper  deck  in  the  clearest  moonlight.  The  Bos- 
phorus  looked  lovely,  with  the  faint  shadow  of  hills 
reflected  all  around  it,  and  myriads  of  stars  looking 
down  from  the  clear  gray  sky.  The  captain  was  kind 
enough  to  fix  his  telescope,  that  I  might  admire  Ju 
piter  and  his  rings,  and  some  curious  spots  in  the 
moon,  which  have  lately  been  unusually  visible.  Then 
in  this  pleasant  stillness,  only  broken  occasionally  by 
the  sound  of  oars  or  of  a  ship's  bell,  the  captain  told 
me  "  all  about"  his  wife  and  little  children  at  home, 
and  I  told  him  "  all  about"  Edith ;  and  so  we  poor 
wanderers  in  a  strange  land  cheer  each  other  up. 

We  had  a  delightful  row  home.  The  ship's  boat, 
with  the  rest  of  the  company,  were  r^sh  enough  to 
race  with  our  fine  caiquejees,  and  vere  of  course 
ignominiously  beaten. 


LETTEK    X. 

HOSPITAL   AT    THERAPIA — ITS    GARDEN    AND    BURIAL-PLACE — GRAVE   OP 

CAPTAIN    LYONS WHITE    CROSS    ERECTED    IN    MEMORY    OF    THOSE    WHO 

FELL    IN    THE    CRIMEA. 

Therapia,  November  lOtli,  1855. 

My  dear  Mr.  Hornby  : 

In  my  last  budget  I  had  not  space  to  tell  you 
of  a  very  interesting  visit  which  the  Rev.  Mr.  Evelyn 
and  I  made  to  the  hospital  here.  It  was  once  a  summer 
palace,  and  has  been  given  by  the  Sultan  for  the  use 
of  the  sick  and  wounded  English.  A  little  kiosk  in 
the  garden,  shaded  with  orange  and  lemon  trees,  is 
devoted  to  the  surgeons.  A  clergyman  and  his  wife 
were  at  the  head  of  it  when  we  first  arrived  at  Thera 
pia.  They  had  been  for  some  months  in  the  Crimea, 
and  came  down  here  greatly  shattered,  I  was  told, 
with  all  they  had  gone  through.  Mrs.  M espe 
cially  was  a  mere  shadow,  and  suffered  severely  from 
low  fever,  and  the  shock  which  her  nerves  had  sus 
tained.  Even  to  her  friend,  Lady  Robinson,  she  could 
never  speak  of  the  horrors  and  sufferings  which  she 
had  witnessed.  An  officer  told  me  that  she  had  been 
left  one  night,  after  an  action,  in  a  kind  of  ruined  out 
house,  with  about  thirty  wounded  men,  whom  the  sur 
geons  had  been  obliged  to  leave,  in  order  to  attend  to 
others.  She  had  but  a  small  quantity  of  brandy,  and 
knew  that,  weakened  by  loss  of  blood,  the  only  chance 
of  life  which  the  poor  fellows  had,  was  being  kept  up 
until  the  return  of  the  surgeons  in  the  morning.  All 

(82) 


HOSPITAL   AT   THERAPIA.  83 

night  this  brave  lady  worked  hard  by  the  light  of  a 
single  rushlight.  Many  died  around  her,  but  she  kept 
on  undauntedly,  and  saved  twelve.  Those  she  could 
not  save  doubtless  died  blessing  her.  I  could  never 
look  upon  this  quiet,  pale  couple  without  the  greatest 
emotion. 

They  both  got  better  at  Therapia,  but  were  always 
at  work,  and  greatly  improved  the  hospital  arrange 
ments.  I  was  told  that  Mrs.  M. —  -  wished  to  return 
to  the  Crimea,  but  that  her  husband  would  not  allow 
her,  shattered  in  health  and  spirits  as  she  was ;  and 
they  have  since  started  for  England.  They  left  with 
several  poor  soldiers,  who  could  never  speak  of  their 
untiring  goodness  without  tears.  The  first  day  I 
visited  the  hospital  there  were  many  lying  there  very 
badly  wounded,  and  neither  noticing  nor  speaking 
to  any  one ;  only  you  saw  by  the  sad,  pale  face,  as 
each  lay  in  his  little  bed  in  the  great  room  (once  a 
part  of  a  luxurious  harem),  how  much  they  had  suf 
fered.  Others,  who  were  better,  looked  up  with  plea 
sure  at  English  faces.  One  or  two  wished  me  "  Good 
morning,"  but  I  could  not  utter  a  word  for  the  first 
few  minutes,  and  stood  at  one  of  the  windows  wiping 
my  eyes.  Nothing  could  look  cleaner  and  neater 
than  the  rows  of  little  beds.  Beside  each  of  them 
was  a  small  table,  covered  with  a  white  cloth,  on 
which  stood  a  Bible  and  a  Prayer-book,  the  medicine- 
glass,  and  perhaps  the  watch,  and  some  other  little 
treasure  belonging  to  the  patient.  One  poor  soldier 
had  walked  across  from  another  room  to  see  a  com 
rade,  on  whose  bed  he  sat,  asking  many  a  kind  ques 
tion,  and  bidding  the  pale,  haggard  face  cheer  up, 
though  looking  but  little  better  himself.  On  the 


84  IN"   AND   AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

next  bed  to  these,  sat  two  mere  shadows  of  men, 
feebly  playing  at  dominoes,  which  they  told  me  with 
delight  were  a  present  from  her  majesty,  and  then 
showed  me  a  backgammon-board,  draughts,  and  some 
amusing  and  instructive  books,  which  the  Queen 
("  God  bless  her  1"  said  the  poor  grateful  fellows)  had 
sent  out  to  amuse  her  wounded  soldiers  at  Therapia. 
It  was  really  quite  touching  to  see  their  thankfulness 
for  all  that  was  done  for  them,  and  how  well  they 
bore  their  sufferings,  so  far  from  home  and  kindred. 

We  went  afterward  to  walk  in  the  garden,  a  large 
and  formal  one,  its  long  straight  walks  ornamented 
with  rows  of  fine  orange  and  lemon  trees  in  full  bear 
ing.  On  sunny  benches  here  and  there  were  seated 
the  convalescents,  enjoying  the  fresh  air.  A  few  were 
strolling  quietly  up  and  down,  reading  together  with 
great  interest,  an  old  and  tattered  English  newspaper. 
From  the  formal  part  of  the  garden  you  soon  wander 
into  a  wildly  beautiful  shrubbery,  which  reaches  up 
to  the  hills  of  Therapia.  This  is  really  a  lovely  spot, 
and,  what  is  rare  in  this  country,  the  deep  shade  pre 
serves  the  ferns  and  wild-flowers  in  freshest  beauty. 
We  walked  with  delight  through  a  fine  avenue  of  trees 
which  reminded  me  of  that  in  the  garden  of  Boccaccio, 
the  blue  sky  peeping  through  the  interlaced  branches 
above,  and  the  sun  just  touching,  here  and  there, 
leaves  already  tinged  with  the  first  gold  of  autumn. 
One  of  these  fine  avenues  extends  half  way  up  the 
hills,  another  crossing  it,  and  forming  a  charming  forest 
picture.  Gathering  some  pretty  specimens  of  ferns 
and  wild-flowers,  we  came  suddenly  to  a  little  valley 
enclosed  with  a  low  mud  wall.  Eound  it  were  ranged, 
in  rows,  about  a  hundred  graves,  each  of  which  con- 


GRAVE-YARD  AT  THERAPIA.  85 

tains  the  bodies  of  many  men,  who  have  died  of  wounds 
in  the  hospital,  or  been  brought  down  from  the  Cri 
mea.  They  are  all  nameless,  these  long  rows  of  clay ; 
but  in  the  centre  of  the  valley,  erected  on  three  white 
stone  steps,  stands  a  plain  white  cross,  on  which  is 
inscribed,  "  I  am  the  Eesurrection  and  the  Life ;"  and 
beneath  this,  "  To  the  memory  of  those  buried  here, 
who  fell  in  the  Crimea;  erected  by  their  country 
women  at  Therapia."  Alone,  at  the  upper  end  of  this 
sad  place,  stands  a  solitary  gray  stone ;  on  it  is  in 
scribed,  "  Captain  Lyons.  Her  Majesty's  ship  Mi 
randa." 

Silently  Mr.  Evelyn  and  I  sat  down  at  the  foot  of 
an  old  tree.  I  believe  that  just  then  neither  of  us 
could  have  spoken  a  word.  We  had  broken  in,  as  it 
were,  so  suddenly  upon  the  mournful  resting-place,  in 
a  strange  land,  of  our  countrymen.  How  they  had 
been  prayed  for !  How  many  bitter  tears  were  still 
shed  for  them  in  England !  Could  the  dead  speak, 
how  many  tender  messages  would  they  not  send  home 
from  that  harem-garden  now  by  us,  whose  hearts  ache 
over  their  lonely  graves  for  them,  and  for  those 
especially  whom  they  have  left  behind !  Mr.  Evelyn 
told  me  of  a  friend  and  namesake  of  his,  who  was 
killed  by  the  bursting  of  a  shell,  just  before  the  assault 
— a  noble  and  promising  young  man,  beloved  by  all. 
His  father  used  to  say,  after  he  had  left  home,  "  My 
friend  and  companion,  as  well  as  my  son,  is  gone."  Mr. 
Evelyn  said  that  the  most  painful  task  of  his  life  was 
to  write  to  this  poor  father,  and  convey  to  him  his  son's 
last  message. 

However,  I  must  tell  you  no  more  sad  stories.  We 
have  heard  enough  to  fill  a  volume,  and  to  make  the 
8 


86  IN   AND   AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

hardest  heart  ache.  Young  ladies,  struck  with  the 
glitter  of  regimental  dress,  and  the  pleasantness  of 
hearing  the  band  play  in  the  Park  on  a  fine  summer's 
day,  would  quite  alter  their  opinion  of  the  pomp  and 
glory  of  war,  were  they  only  to  see  one-tenth  part  of 
its  horror,  and  misery,  and  sorrow. 

Mr.  Evelyn  hopes  soon  to  return  to  his  labors  in  the 
Crimea,  which,  however,  we  trust  he  will  not  attempt 
just  yet,  for  he  has  been  very  near  losing  his  life  from 
fever,  brought  on  by  exposure  and  over-exertion,  and 
has  still  a  terrible  cough,  which  even  the  fine  air  of 
Therapia  does  not  cure.  Besides  attending  to  the  sick 
and  dying,  he  has  had  an  evening-school  for  the  sol 
diers  of  his  Division,  and  writes  all  the  letters  of  those 
not  able  to  do  it  for  themselves. 

The  night  before  the  assault,  he  and  another  cnap- 
lain  administered  the  Sacrament  to  about  fifty  officers, 
at  their  own  request.  He  said  that  the  scene  was  a 
most  impressive  one — in  a  large  tent,  lighted  by  a  few 
candles  stuck  on  bayonets.  It  is  remarkable  that,  of 
the  number  gathered  together  on  that  momentous 
evening,  almost  all  fell.  But  the  evening  was  now 
drawing  to  a  close,  and  with  a  long,  lingering  look 
round  this  little  Yalley  of  the  Dead,  we  took  our  depar 
ture. 

On  reaching  the  end  of  -the  avenue,  we  found  the 
garden-door  of  the  hospital-palace  locked.  After 
knocking  again  and  again,  and  beginning  to  despair 
of  making  ourselves  heard  (for  the  invalids  must  have 
left  the  garden  long  before  this  time,)  we  heard  foot 
steps  rapidly  coming  along  one  of  the  long  gravel 
walks.  I  peeped  through  the  keyhole  of  the  huge  and 
ponderous  lock,  and  saw  the  Turkish  gardener  hurry- 


AWKWARD   DILEMMA.  87 

ing  toward  us.  This  good  news  I  communicated  to 
my  friend,  who,  delicate  as  he  was  from  recent  illness, 
was  already  beginning  to  feel  chilled  by  the  evening 
air  in  this  deep  shade  of  trees.  Unfortunately  he 
too  looked  through  the  keyhole  just  as  the  Turkish 
gardener,  bent  on  reconnoitring  who  was  making  the 
loud  knocking,  did  the  same.  Pity  it  was  not  my 
ruddy  face  that  met  his  view,  for  a  single  glance  at 
Mr.  Evelyn's  pale  and  worn  one  seemed  to  be  enough. 
He  sped  away  as  if  the  shades  of  all  the  poor 
"  Giaours  "  lying  in  the  valley  were  after  him.  Seri 
ously  speaking,  I  have  no  doubt  that  he  really  mis 
took  Mr.  Evelyn  for  a  good-looking  shade — but  still 
shade  unmistakably;  and  I  dare  say  that  nothing 
could  have  induced  him  to  return,  for  the  Turks  are 
a  singularly  superstitious  people.  We  could  not  help 
laughing  at  this  very  awkward  dilemma;  however, 
nothing  remained  but  to  make  the  best  of  it.  Twilight 
only  lasts  a  few  minutes  here,  and  the  tall  shadows 
of  the  trees  were  rapidly  mingling  into  darkness.  So 
we  again  crossed  the  valley,  and  gaining  the  upper 
avenue,  found  another  way  home  over  the  hills, 
descending  through  the  village  to  our  hotel  by  the 
Bosphorus. 


LETTEK    XI. 

BEAUTY  OF  THE  BOSPHORTJS — FISHING-VILLAGE  ON  THE  ASIAN  SHORE — 
TURKISH  CEMETERY  AND  GRAVES  OF  THE  JANISSARIES — RUINS  OF  THE 
CASTLE  OF  ANATOLIA — TURKISH  SOLDIERS. 

Therapia,  November  15th,  1855. 
My  dear  Julia : 

The  Bosphorus  is  certainly  one  of  those  beau 
ties  formed  to  turn  all  the  heads  in  the  world.  She 
smiles,  and  nothing  on  earth  can  be  more  radiantly 
bright  and  sparkling;  she  is  angry,  and  dashes  along 
with  a  wild,  untamable,  yet  graceful  fury — the  hills 
around  grow  dark  and  sorrowful,  and  the  tall  cypress- 
trees  wave  their  heads  in  stately  submission  to  her 
stormy  humor. 

Some  people  think  her  most  beautiful  then,  but 
others  are  enchanted  with  her  quiet,  dreamy  moods, 
when  she  murmurs  gently  on  the  shore,  and  takes 
delight  in  picturing  fairy-white  palaces,  and  shady 
rose  and  orange-gardens,  and  fragrant  branches  wav 
ing  in  the  scented  wind.  Or  in  the  stiller  nights, 
when  she  flashes  back  every  touch  with  a  gleam  of 
gold,  and  sparkles  with  golden  stars  as  she  moves 
along  in  the  pale  gray  light. 

But  you  may  tire  of  my  attempt  at  description — 
you  never  would  of  beholding  the  reality.  Yesterday 
we  took  caique  at  Buyukdere,  and  crossed  over  to  the 
Asiatic  shore.  I  got  some  charming  specimens  for 
my  collection  of  wild-flowers,  and  a  beautiful  bouquet 
of  arbutus,  laden  with  the  richest  berries.  The  arbutus 
(88) 


CASTLE    OF   ANATOLIA.  89 

grows  wild  on  the  hills  and  cliffs  here,  almost  down  to 
the  sea-shore,  and  also  many  fine  shrubs  which  would 
grace  a  garden.  The  Bosphorus  was  very  rough,  or 
we  had  planned  rowing  up  the  mouth  of  the  Black 
Sea ;  as  it  was,  we  landed  with  some  difficulty  at  a  lit 
tle  village  beneath  the  ancient  Castle  of  Anatolia.  It 
was  a  most  picturesque-looking  place,  and  evidently  a 
fishing-village.  Numbers  of  gayly-painted  caiques 
were  drawn  up  on  the  shore,  and  from  the  lofty  boughs 
of  a  group  of  enormous  lime-trees,  hung  fishing-nets 
of  great  length  and  almost  snowy -whiteness.  Num 
bers  of  broken-down  wooden  houses  were  clustered 
within  the  shade  of  the  vast  boughs.  A  few  Turkish 
fishermen  were  seated  on  some  large  stones  mending 
their  nets,  and  many  were  resting  before  the  door  of  a  lit 
tle  cafanee,  sipping  coffee,  and  smoking  with  their  usual 
sedateness.  Here,  in  the  Asiatic  villages,  the  people 
are  more  picturesque-looking  than  at  Constantinople, 
and  generally  retain  the  beard,  and  many-colored  tur 
ban,  which  suits  the  Eastern  face  so  well.  They  are 
also  much  more  shy  of  strangers.  Even  at  Stamboul, 
little  children  will  sometimes  give  you  a  friendly 
smile,  or  even  call  you  "Bono  Johnny;"  but  in  Asia 
the  little  things  generally  dart  a  glance  of  hatred  or 
fear,  and  mutter  " Giaour"  as  they  fly  away  from  you. 
Their  mothers  too  show  great  dislike  of  your  noticing 
them,  fearing  the  "  evil  eye  "  of  Europeans. 

But  I  am  wandering  from  the  ruins  of  the  great 
Anatolian  castle,  which  we  came  to  see.  It  is  built  on 
the  top  of  the  mountainous  range  of  hills  overlooking 
the  Black  Sea  ;  so  you  may  fancy  what  a  climb  it  was 
in  the  fierce  heat  of  the  day.  "When  half-way  up,  we 
stopped  in  a  beautiful  but  ruined  cemetery,  and  sat 
8* 


90  IX    AND   AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

down  to  rest  by  an  ancient  fountain.  Some  Turkish 
women  were  sitting  there,  but  they  hastily  adjusted 
their  vails,  and  retreated  at  our  approach  among  the 
old  and  knotted  cypress-trees.  Higher  up,  through 
the  dark  funereal  boughs,  was  the  most  lovely  view 
that  could  be  conceived  of  the  blue  winding  Bospho- 
rus,  the  hills  and  shipping  of  Therapia,  and  the  great 
valley  of  Buyukdere.  Some  ancient  graves  of  the 
Janissaries  stood  here,  with  huge  and  unmutilated 
turbaned  stones.  Sultan  Mahmoud's  vengeance  had 
not  found  them  out  in  this  sequestered  place,  and  they 
still  slept  quietly  on  the  spot  which  I  dare  say  they 
had  chosen  in  their  days  of  greatness,  with  only  a 
few  timid  sheep  straying  here  and  there  to  share  pos 
session  with  them.* 

At  last  we  reached  the  fine  ruins  of  the  castle,  and 
wished  you  could  have  seen  from  the  tower  the  view 
of  the  wild  rocky  coast  of  the  Black  Sea,  the  oppo 
site  European  shore  and  its  ruined  forts,  the  Giant's 
Mountain,  and  all  the  softer,  wooded  beauty  of  the 
Bosphorus  below.  It  was  indeed  a  lovely  sight,  and 
well  worth  the  sultry  walk.  The  tower  and  walls  and 
bastions  of  this  castle  are  covered  with  the  thickest 
and  most  beautiful  ivy.  On  the  lower  walls  wild  vine 
and  fig-leaves  of  the  ruined  garden  mingle  with  its 
dark  foliage.  A  very  pretty  species  of  mountain-ash 
grows  abundantly  here,  with  large  bunches  of  the 
most  brilliant  scarlet  berries,  which  are  shaded,  almost 
transparent,  and  as  fine  as  coral.  A  small  patch  of 


*  After  the  massacre  of  the  Janissaries,  Sultan  Mahmoud  or 
dered  all  the  turbans  on  their  headstones  to  be  struck  off.  The 
headless  stones  are  to  be  seen  in  almost  all  the  cemeteries. 


TURKISH   SOLDIERS.  91 

ground  within  the  inner  wall  was  strewn  with  melons 
and  a  few  dried-up  vegetables,  evidently  for  the  use 
of  three  or  four  miserable,  wild-looking  Turkish  sol 
diers,  who  leaned  over  the  ruined  battlements  of  the 
tower,  watching  the  flight  of  a  couple  of  eagles  wheel 
ing  slowly  round  and  round,  high  in  air.  We  managed 
to  make  one  of  these  poor  "  sentries"  understand  a 
few  words  of  Italian.  We  were  "  great  English  cap 
tains,"  he  said,  and  hastened  to  offer  one  of  his  best 
melons.  He  afterward  looked  with  great  curiosity 
at  our  glasses,  so  I  fixed  mine  for  him,  and  pointed 
to  the  distant  eagle.  He  was  positively  frightened, 
cried  out  something  to  his  companions,  and  could  not 
be  induced  to  look  again,  evidently  thinking  it  some 
thing  "  uncanny."  These  poor  soldiers,  and  a  kind  of 
shepherd  gardener,  whose  starved-looking  flock  were 
grazing  on  the  adjoining  "hill,  live  in  a  rude  kind  of 
hut,  erected  inside  of  the  castle-keep,  a  most  dreary 
abode,  only  lighted  by  a  crumbling  entrance  in  the 
wall.  Looking  up  far  into  darkness,  one  could  only 
discover  a  gleam  of  light  here  and  there.  They  said 
that  immense  numbers  of  bats  and  owls  flew  about  at 
night.  Only  fancy  the  desolateness  of  these  poor  fel 
lows'  lives  !  A  few  piastres  cheered  them  up  wonder 
fully.  It  is  said  that  the  arms  of  Byzantium  are  still 
to  be  seen  on  this  castle,  but  we  were  not  fortunate 
enough  to  find  them  out.  Ail  I  saw  over  one  of  the 
doorways  was  a  large  Genoese  cross.  In  ancient  times 
here  stood  the  famous  Temple  of  the  Twelve  Gods, — 
at  least  so  says  the  learned  "  Murray,"  in  whom  every 
English  traveler  is  bound  to  confide. 

We  had  a  delightful  row  back  to  Buyukdere,  and 
again  the  good  ship  "  Elba"  hospitably  received  us. 


92  IN    AND    AROUND    STAMBOUL. 

A  colonel  of  the  Turkish  Contingent  had  joined  the 
party,  whose  chat  about  the  camp  was  extremely  en 
tertaining.  In  these  two  or  three  stormy  nights, 
many  of  the  tents  in  the  valley  of  Buyukdere  have 
been  flooded.  The  colonel  seems  to  regret  this  the 
more  on  account  of  a  Turkish  hen,  a  prisoner-of-war, 
who  lived  under  a  kind  of  rude  straw  sofa  in  his  tent, 
and  seemed  so  amiably  inclined  to  him  that  he  always 
knew  where  to  find  a  new-laid  egg  for  his  breakfast 
every  morning.  His  cook  is  a  wild  Wallachian  wo 
man,  who  rides  astride  full  speed  through  the  camp ; 
and  he  was  in  great  spirits  at  having  made  the  ac 
quaintance  of  a  poor  Bim-Bashee  (equal  in  rank  to 
a  major  in  our  service)  of  one  of  the  regiments,  who 
was  happy  to  mend  or  patch  for  a  "  consideration." 

Poor  Colonel showed  me  his  only  remaining 

yellow  cambric  handkerchief,  which  had  acquired  this 
very  unenviable  tinge  from  having  been  washed  by  a 
Turkish  soldier  in  a  small  hole  cut  in  the  clay  hillside 
of  the  camp.  He  has  now  got  an  Arab  servant,  a 
perfectly  wild  but  intelligent  creature,  whom  he  is 
endeavoring  to  teach  cooking  and  washing,  two  most 
valuable  accomplishments  here. 

You  would  have  been  amused  to  see  with  what 
intense  interest  our  new  acquaintance  listened  to  my 
instructions  on  the  important  subject  of  "  how  to 
make  a  pudding."  After  all,  there  must  be  a  great 
deal  of  fun  in  camp  life  to  those  who  enjoy  the  dignity 
of  helping  themselves.  "  The  wise  man's  best  servant 
and  assistant  is  himself,"  struck  me  very  much,  even 
as  a  child,  on  reading  the  "  Fortunes  of  Nigel." 


LETTEE    XII 

VILLAGE  OP    KADIKOI— SEA    OF  MARMORA— LANDING    AT    PERA— STAM 

BOUL ITS     SILENT     STREETS BEHIND    THE     LATTICE THE     SULTAN — • 

HIS  KIND  AND  MERCIFUL  DISPOSITION — DESOLATENESS  OF  CONSTANTI 
NOPLE —  VARIABLE  CLIMATE — THE  TURKISH  LOAN — CHOLERA  AT 
YENEKION. 

Tlierapia,  November  10th,  1855. 
My  dearest  Mother : 

We  returned  last  evening  from  a  visit  to  a  vil 
lage  called  Kadikoi.  It  is  beyond  Scutari,  just  where 
the  Bosphorus  becomes  very  wide  and  loses  itself  in 
the  Sea  of  Marmora.  This  is  the  point  where  you  sit 
in  your  caique  as  it  bounds  over  the  waves,  quite  lost 
in  wonder  at  the  extraordinary  beauty,  the  dreamlike 
loveliness  of  the  place,  of  which  nothing  but  actual 
beholding  can  give  you  the  faintest  idea.  Perhaps  in 
a  dream  I  may  see  again,  when  in  England,  this  very 
place,  where  the  Bosphorus  and  the  whole  Propontis 
meet ;  I  may  again  feel  the  delightful  undulation  of 
the  caique  on  the  dark-blue  water — again  see  beautiful 
Stamboul,  with  its  snow-white  minarets  and  dark 
cypresses  rising  as  it  were  from  the  waves — ships  of 
all  nations  floating  by — Princess'  Islands  and  shadowy 
Mount  Olympus  like  gray  clouds  in  the  distance ; 
on  the  other  side,  seeming  to  rise  out  of  the  sea  too, 
Pera  and  the  tower  of  Galata,  and  the  dark-green 
funereal  trees  of  the  great  burial-ground. 

The    "Maiden's  Tower"  stands   on   a   rock  in  the 
sea,  off  the  steep  cliffs  of  Scutari.     You  must  either 

(93) 


"9-i  IN    AND   AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

see  this  place,  or  dream  it  after  a  dose  of  opium  or 
lotus-eating.  No  pen,  no  artist  can  paint  it. 

But  what  an  awakening  it  is  to  land  at  Pera !  Such 
a  motley  crowd,  such  a  jostling,  such  a  confusion  of 
tongues  and  of  cries,  such  dirt,  it  is  utterly  impossible 
to  conceive. 

This  is,  as  you  know,  the  "  Frank"  quarter,  thronged 
with  people  of  many  nations.  If  you  land  at  Stam- 
boul,  you  find  the  landing-place  crowded  with  caiques 
and  Greek  boats,  and  hundreds  of  people  hurrying 
up  the  narrow  street  leading  to  the  bazaars — hamals, 
or  porters,  laden  with  huge  bales  of  wool  and  other 
merchandise.  But  turn  right  or  left  out  of  this  busy 
path,  and  you  find  yourself  as  it  were  in  a  city  of  the 
dead — closed  lattices,  and  not  a  sound  to  disturb 
the  profound  silence  of  the  steep  and  narrow  streets, 
across  which  sometimes  trails  a  neglected  trellised 
vine.  After  a  long  ramble  one  day,  Mr.  Bell  and  I 
sat  down  on  an  ancient  fountain-stone  in  this  silent 
region.  Opposite  to  us,  on  the  right,  was  a  vacant 
space  caused  by  a  fire,  over  which  fig-trees  and  creep 
ing  plants  grew  in  uninterrupted  wildness  and  luxu 
riance.  Exactly  opposite  to  the  poor  weary  travelers 
was  a  dark-red  and  closely -latticed  wooden  house,  most 
picturesquely  decayed-looking.  Presently  a  vailed 
black  slave  came  out,  and  carefully  closing  the  door, 
gave  a  suspicious  glance  at  the  "  Giaours,"  and  shuf 
fled  mysteriously  out  of  sight.  A  little  red-and- white 
kitten  had  evidently  wished  to  come  into  the  street 
with  her ;  but  when  it  saw  us,  it  started  back  as  if  in 
fear  of  the  "infidels."  All  the  time  we  sat  there, 
we  saw  one  of  its  little  golden  eyes  peeping  at  us 
through  a  hole  in  the  old  iron-bound  door.  "We 


SCENE   BEHIND   A   LATTICE.  05 

were  very  tired,  so  there  we  sat  a  long  time,  saying 
what  a  curious,  silent,  drowsy,  and  picturesque  place 
it  was,  when  we  saw  a  little  square  bit  of  the  trellis- 
work  lattice  quietly  open,  and  a  pair  of  black  eyes 
looked  down  upon  us  through  the  thick  white  folds 
of  a  yashmak.  We  did  not  speak,  and  sat  just  as  chil 
dren  do,  scarcely  daring  to  breathe,  when  a  strange 
bird  hops  by  which  they  are  anxious  not  to  scare 
away.  The  black  eyes  evidently  scanned  us  both 
from  head  to  foot;  but  presently  a  turbaned  head 
crossed  the  lattice,  and  they  suddenly  disappeared. 
Mr.  Turk  now  opened  the  lattice  a  little  wider,  and 
seemed  so  well  pleased  with  his  view,  that  Mr.  Bell 
at  length  broke  silence  by  suggesting  that  it  would 
be  rather  awkward,  alone  as  we  were,  if  he  were 
to  come  down  and  insist  upon  buying  me  at  once. 
Mr.  Bell  and  I  are  famous  for  making  each  other 
laugh,  and  here  was  an  end  of  our  gravity  at  once. 
The  black  eyes  again  returned  to  the  lattice,  but  we 
could  see  by  its  wreaths  of  white  smoke  that  My  lord 
was  close  by.  It  seemed  to  us  that  this  silent  pan 
tomime  meant :  "  If  you  look  at  her,  I  will  look  at 
him;"  for  the  black  eyes  now  fixed  themselves  on 
the  good-looking  and  susceptible  Mr.  Bell  in  the  most 
determined  and  tender  manner ;  so  that  out  of  regard 
to  his  peace  of  mind,  I  thought  it  better  to  rise  from 
the  old  stone  and  go  on  our  way,  which  we  did. 

Both  of  us,  however,  being  rather  flattered  with  such 
evident  and  novel  admiration,  we  consulted  together 
as  to  the  expediency  of  waving  an  adieu — I  to  the 
turban,  he  to  the  black  eyes  and  yashmak.  But  we 
were  alone  in  the  very  heart  of  silent  Stamboul,  and 
not  able  to  speak  a  word  of  the  language ;  so  I  ad- 


Ub  IN  AND   AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

vised  Mr.  Bell  to  keep  his  head  comfortably  on  hia 
shoulders,  and  to  depart  with  no  other  demonstration 
to  the  lovely  black  eyes  than  a  sorrowful  look.  This 
he  agreed  to,  provided  that  I  did  the  same ;  to  which  I 
consented,  after  some  disputation  as  to  the  "  difference" 
in  the  way  of  danger.  And  we  climbed  on  through 
another  silent  street,  where  only  a  blind  woman  sat  on 
the  door-step  to  a  small  cemetery,  where  a  few  blue 
and  gilt  turbaned  stones  could  be  seen  through  the 
thick  shade  of  cypress  and  flowers,  surrounded  by  a 
rusty  iron  railing,  trellised  for  birds.  The  next  turn 
brought  us  to  a  coffee  and  sherbet  shop,  and  we  made 
signs  of  being  thirsty.  The  drowsy  Turks  smoke  their 
chibouques,  and  look  at  you  so  quietly  from  their 
divans.  I  greatly  enjoyed  that  first  walk  in  Stamboul. 
One  is  always  reminded  of  the  Arabian  Nights.  By- 
the-bye,  when  we  write  to  ask  you  to  send  out  the 
winter  clothing,  etc.,  will  you  send  me  a  copy  of  that 
book  ?  It  ought  to  be  read  here.  Please  not  to  forget. 
I  will  tell  you  how  to  send  the  parcel. 

Tell  Edie  that  I  was  so  much  amused  that  day  at 
Stamboul  by  a  parrot,  just  like  ours  at  home.  She 
was  hanging  in  a  gaudily -painted  cage,  inside  a  Turk 
ish  sweetmeat  shop.  As  I  passed  by  I  said,  "  Poor 
Poll !"  for  she  looked  very  dull,  and  heedless  of  the 
vailed  women  and  Turkish  children  passing  in  and 
out.  You  can  hardly  imagine  the  delight  of  the  poor 
bird  at  the  sound  of  my  voice.  She  screamed,  and 
danced  about  her  cage,  like  a  mad  thing,  trying  to  fly 
to  me  all  the  time.  I  could  only  suppose  that  she  had 
been  broiight  up  English,  and  was  charmed  by  the 
sound  of  the  language  of  her  early  sailor-days,  before 
being  sold  at  Constantinople  and  consigned  to  silent 


THE   SULTAN.  97 

Stamboul, — not  a  cheerful  place  for  a  parrot,  I  should 
think ! 

We  came  home  by  the  Mosque  of  St.  Sophia,  and 
by  the  outer  garden  of  the  Seraglio,  where  we  again 
rested,  and  a  Turkish  gardener  gave  me  some  flowers 
and  a  handful  of  fine  walnuts.  This  ground  is  to  the 
Seraglio,  what  Birdcage  Walk  is  to  Buckingham 
Palace :  I  mean  only  in  its  nearness,  for  the  ground  is 
hilly  and  the  walls  fortified.  It  would  be  a  beautiful 
place  to  walk  about  in,  for  the  cypress  and  other  trees 
are  very  fine,  and  the  view  charming  all  down  by 
Scutari ;  but  you  constantly  regret  the  untidy  and 
uncared-for  exterior  of  all  palaces  and  mosques  here, 
except  the  entrances  by  the  Bosphorus.  These  are 
beautiful  quays,  with  vases  of  flowers,  and  inner  mar 
ble  courts,  fountains,  and  gardens  shining  through 
the  trellised  arches  of  the  walls,  all  in  the  most  perfect 
order,  as  I  am  told  the  interior  of  the  houses  are. 
I  am  promised  introductions  to  one  or  two  great 
Turkish  hareems ;  then  I  shall  be  able  to  tell  you 
much. 

Dr.  Zohrab,  who  is  the  Sultan's  physician,  said,  at 
dinner  yesterday,  that  he  hoped  to  be  able  to  take  me 
to  the  marriage  of  the  Sultan's  daughter,  which  will 
be  a  most  magnificent  sight,  but  is  not  to  take  place 
just  yet.  Dr.  Zohrab  is  much  attached  to  the  Sultan, 
and  indignant  at  the  slanders  which  those  opposed  to 
his  wish  for  civilization  and  improvement  (he  declares) 
invent.  The  Sultan  is,  he  says,  slightly  paralyzed 
from  extreme  debility  and  ill-health,  and  this  his  ene 
mies  pretend  to  attribute  to  intemperance.  He  is  very 
accessible  to  his  subjects,  and  would  be  to  people  of 
any  nation,  if  his  intriguing  ministers  did  not  do  all 
9 


98  IN   AND   AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

in  their  power  to  prevent  it.  All  agree  in  speaking 
of  his  merciful  disposition ;  he  has  never  yet  been  in 
duced  to  sign  a  death-warrant.  You  see  that  I  can 
but  write  to  you  all  at  home  what  I  hear  from  the 
most  credible  sources ;  it  is  most  difficult  in  this  coun 
try  to  come  at  the  truth.  However,  as  far  as  regards 
the  sultan,  I  should  really  think  he  is  a  good  but  a 
weak  man,  who  cannot  do  what  he  would,  for  fear  of 
his  thieving  and  fanatical  ministers.  His  chief  de 
light  is  his  new  palace  at  Dolma  Batche.  Mrs.  San 
derson  tells  me  that  the  palace  at  Bahjoh  is  just  like 
those  in  the  Arabian  Nights,  the  most  beautiful  you 
can  conceive.  Dr.  Zohrab  says  that  he  is  too  good 
for  a  Sultan,  and  is  "almost  an  angel."  Madame 

—  is  one  of  the  many  who  decidedly  affirm  that 
he  is  a  drunkard ;  but  she  is  a  Greek,  and  a  would-be 
diplomate,  and  Dr.  Zohrab  is  a  fine,  rough,  independent, 
but  good  and  affectionate  man,  who  would,  1  am  sure, 
defend  neither  prince  nor  peasant  if  he  thought  them 
wrong.  From  the  Bosphorus  this  palace  looks  very 
lovely.  By  the  way,  many  of  the  Sultanas  at  the 
palace  of  Tscheran  are  being  taught  to  read,  and  sev 
eral  are  proud  of  being  able  to  spell  over  the  "  Thou- 
sand-and-one  Nights."  Poor  things !  what  a  useful 
education  to  give  them !  However,  it  is  a  step.  They 
are  also  taught  music  and  dancing,  and  all  practise  on 
different  instruments  in  the  same  hall  at  the  same  time. 
A  lady  who  heard  it  in  passing  the  palace  told  me 
what  an  awful  noise  it  was. 

We  hear  a  great  deal  of  what  is  going  on  both  in 

Turkish  and  European  affairs  here  from  .  As 

you  may  imagine,  it  is  a  great  comfort  to  be  really 
intimate  with  so  clever,  good,  and  kind-hearted  a  per- 


VARIABLE   CLIMATE.  99 

son  in  a  country  like  this,  which,  in  spite  of  the  great 
beauty  of  the  scenery,  is  desolate  enough  to  live  in. 
After  the  novelty  has  passed  off,  there  is  a  sense 
of  extreme  dreariness  here.  Like  the  beauty  of  the 
day  when  the  chilly  nights  come  on,  so  vanish  all 
your  thoughts  of  trying  to  be  content,  directly  your 
day's  work  or  your  day's  expedition  is  over,  and  you 
heartily  hate  the  place  and  long  to  be  at  home.  Then 
the  climate  is  so  changeable,  that  a  sense  of  its  danger 
must  always  create  a  sort  of  melancholy,  and  aversion 
to  remain  a  day  longer  than  is  positively  necessary. 
In  the  morning,  or  even  in  the  afternoon,  when  you 
start  on  a  short  journey,  the  brightest  sunshine  and 
the  freshest  breeze  make  you  exclaim,  "  What  can  be 
finer  or  healthier  than  this  ?"  A  change  in  the  wind, 
or  a  few  minutes  after  sunset,  sends  you  shivering 
home  with  every  symptom  of  a  sore-throat,  and  pains 
in  every  limb.  You  put  your  hand  up  to  your  fore 
head  and  find  a  few  drops  of  cold  water  quietly  trick 
ling  down.  However,  these  symptoms  are  more  felt 
on  first  arriving.  We  are  now  not  nearly  so  sensi 
tive  to  changes  of  temperature  as  we  were,  and  better 
understand  to  manage  our  clothing,  always  carrying 
cloaks  when  frying  in  the  sun,  that  they  may  be  ready 
for  the  cold  of  three  hours  after.  The  weather  has 
been  oppressively  close  and  hot  these  three  weeks; 
but  last  night  we  heard  the  wind  come  roaring  down 
from  the  Black  Sea ;  violent  rain  followed,  and  it  is 
winter  this  morning.  Edmund  had  to  go  to  Orta- 
kioy,  and  it  looked  so  threatening  that  I  made  him 
promise  to  stay  all  night,  and  am  glad  to  have  done 
so,  for  it  is  now  just  about  the  time  he  will  have 
arrived  at  his  friend's  house,  and  the  storm  is  fright- 


100  IN   AND   AROUND   STAMBOfJL. 

ful — the  Bospliorus  like  a  raging  sea,  the  waves  (lash 
ing  right  over  the  stone  pathway  against  the  houses. 
Not  a  caique  could  venture  out.  I  have  just  been 
watching  a  man-of-war's  boat  with  sixteen  rowers  and 
a  sail,  trying  to  reach  the  shore,  which  they  have 
done  with  great  difficulty.  A  part  of  the  French  fleet 
is  anchored  just  off  here,  and  also  several  Sardinian 
vessels.  I  was  going  down  to  Kandelij  to-day,  but 
think  it  more  prudent  to  remain  at  home.  The  Sar 
dinian  Commodore  here,  Signor  di  Negri,  kindly 
offered  to  bring  me  up  his  little  steamer,  rather  than 
that  I  should  be  disappointed;  but  the  wind  increases 
every  moment,  and  for  mere  pleasure,  one  would  not 
brave  what,  they  say,  the  Bosphorus  can  do. 

I  told  you  what  gentlemanly,  well-informed  men 
the  Sardinian  officers  are.  This  Signor  di  Negri  is 
a  delightful  acquaintance.  I  now  speak  Italian  with 
fluency,  holding  long  conversations,  and  find  it  of 
great  use,  especially  amongst  the  Greeks,  most  of 
whom  understand  it  sufficiently  to  get  you  what  you 
want.  It  is  wonderful  to  see  how  completely  the 
Greeks  put  us  to  shame  with  respect  to  languages ; 
they  speak  several  foreign  ones  as  a  matter  of  course, 
while  we  generally  think  so  much  of  it. 

I  am  very  glad,  as  it  happens,  that  we  are  not  to 
winter  at  Pera.  The  streets  are  so  crowded  that  it  is 
easy  enough  even  to  murder  in  the  confusion  of  dusk; 
with  no  lights  and  a  broken-up  pavement.  A  French 
officer  was  stabbed  coming  out  of  the  Opera-house 
three  or  four  nights  ago ;  another  was  knocked  on 
the  head  arid  robbed  of  his  watch,  about  six  in  the 
evening,  in  the  streets  of  Pera.  Both  these  unfortu 
nate  men  died  on  the  spot,  and  the  murderers  have 


OSfl 


\^Jttp 

not  been  discovered.  The  French  are  very  eftgryV 
and  insist  on  having  guards  of  their  own  in  all  the 
streets,  as  the  Turks  will  not  be  at  the  trouble  of  doing 
so.  A  band  of  Greek  robbers,  disguised  as  English 
sailors,  and  who  speak  English  perfectly  well,  are 
known  to  infest  Pera,  and  to  have  perpetrated  many 
outrages  and  robberies.  It  is  confidently  said  that  the 
Turkish  authorities  know  who  they  are  very  well,  and 
could  take  them  if  they  liked.  However,  the  French 
are  now  bent  on  taking  active  measures ;  but  it  is  as 
yet  not  safe  to  venture  out  at  Pera  after  dark,  unless 
armed  and  escorted.  I  am  thankful  that  Edmund  is 
not  compelled  to  run  the  risk.  I  feel  now  so  glad  to 
be  with  him.  I  often  think  that,  if  he  were  alone, 
he  might  naturally  be  tempted  to  go  to  the  Opera, 
bad  as  it  is,  and  so  run  the  double  danger  of  assassins 
and  night  air.  As  it  is,  we  are  always  in  by  sun 
set,  and  after  a  quiet  chat  with  our  present  fellow- 
prisoners,  Lady  Robinson  and  Signer  di  Negri,  or 
reading  an  hour  after  dinner,  we  go  to  our  own  room 
and  talk  of  Edie  and  you  all  in  England  till  bedtime. 
The  hotel  here  is  now  nearly  empty;  there  remain 
only  the  two  I  just  mentioned,  a  lady,  who  is  soon 
leaving  for  Scutari  to  join  her  husband,  and  Mr.  Gis- 
borne,  who  has  been  here  since  we  first  arrived — our 
long-standing,  long-suffering  colleague.  Mr.  Gisborne 
is  on  his  way  to  Egypt  (if  he  ever  finishes  his  business 
here,)  to  get  permission  to  establish  a  telegraph.  But 
he  is  in  despair  with  the  Turks.  What  you  could  do 
in  five  hours  in  any  other  place,  you  may  think  your 
self  fortunate  to  get  done  here  in  five  months. 

I  left  off  writing  here  yesterday,  as  Edmund  had 
ridden   back    from    Orta-kioy   and   was    thoroughly 
9* 


102  IN   AND   AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

soaked.  Dry  clothes  and  a  cup  of  tea  soon  put  him 
all  right  again,  and  in  an  hour  he  went  in  to  dinner. 
Several  travelers  came  in,  terribly  knocked  about  by 
the  storm  on  the  Black  Sea  and  the  Bosphorus,  and 
we  felt  grateful  enough  to  be  safely  housed.  I  sup 
pose  none  of  the  French  officers  just  arrived  in  Beicos 
Bay  could  get  on  shore,  for  we  saw  none  of  them  at 
dinner. 

Just  as  we  had  finished  our  second  course,  the 
dining-room  door  opened  to  admit  an  English  officer, 
whose  dripping  cloak  was  taken  by  the  waiters,  and 
who  sat  down  to  the  table,  with  great  satisfaction, 
after  having  warmed  his  hands  at  the  stove.  The 
entrance  of  a  Crimean  hero  at  dinner-time  would  not 
be  quietly  taken  as  a  matter  of  course  in  England  as 
it  is  here.  A  few  days  ago  a  fine-looking  French 
officer  sat  opposite  to  us  at  table.  I  was  the  only  lady 
present,  so  he  rose  and  most  politely  asked  permission 
to  wear  his  cap,  as  he  was  suffering  from  a  severe  cold. 
We  thought  he  looked  very  melancholy,  and  Edmund 
talked  to  him.  His  only  brother  had  died  the  day 
before  of  cholera  at  Yenekion.  They  had  both  fought 
in  the  Crimea  together.  He  tried  to  bear  it  manfully, 
but  it  seemed  as  much  us  he  could  do,  poor  fellow ! 
The  Sardinians  had  the  cholera  amongst  them  at 
Yenekion ;  unfortunately,  four  or  five  were  brought 
down  from  the  Crimea,  and  care  was  not  taken  to 
keep  them  apart ;  it  spread  into  the  village  and  many 
died.  We  were  walking  there  when  these  poor  fellows 
were  carried  from  their  ship. 

Of  course  no  one  went  near  Yenekion  who  could 
help  it,  when  these  cases  of  cholera  were  heard  of. 
Even  the  caiquejees,  in  rowing  up  the  Bosphorus, 


PHOTOGRAPHS    OF   THE    BOSPHORUS.  103 

kept  at  a  respectful  distance.  They  say  that  the  vil 
lage  is  quite  healthy  now,  and  these  wintry  storms 
will  keep  all  well.  It  is  only  amongst  crowds  that 
the  cholera  ever  seems  to  break  out,  and  the  thing 
you  most  wonder  at  in  seeing  the  hivelike  clusters  of 
houses  where  the  poor  live,  is  that  they  can  live  or 
breathe  at  all.  Even  in  the  streets  of  these  villages 
you  feel  stifled ;  and  the  people  throw  dead  animals 
into  the  Bosphorus,  which,  in  calm  and  hot  weather, 
smell  dreadfully  under  the  very  doors  and  windows. 
I  am  sorry  to  say  that  the  English,  French,  and  even 
Sardinians,  show  them  a  bad  example  in  this  respect, 
for  they  throw  overboard  from  the  transports  any  ani 
mal  which  dies  on  board ;  and  the  quantity  of  these, 
from  the  great  number  of  transports  of  the  various 
commissariats,  is  considerable. 

The  beautiful  walk  by  the  seashore  to  Buyukdere 
was  completely  spoiled  to  us  by  this  disgusting  prac 
tice.  At  one  time  there  were  three  or  four  dead 
horses,  two  cows,  and  several  sheep,  washing  back 
ward  and  forward  on  the  shore.  These  were  all  from 
the  English  transports.  Now  that  the  Contingent  is 
gone,  we  can  take  a  pleasant  morning's  walk,  and 
nothing  can  be  more  lovely.  I  hope  by  this  time  Mr. 
Bell  has  shown  you  some  of  his  sketches,  which  are 
excellent,  although  no  one  can  paint  the  Bosphorus. 
We  are  going  to  send  home,  on  some  safe  opportunity, 
a  few  photograps  of  this  place,  which  are  about  as 
good  as  a  photograph  of  a  beautiful  face  without  its 
bright  coloring. 


LETTEK    XIII. 

PALACE    OF   THE    SULTAN  AT  BEGLER   BAY — THE    BOSPHORUS    AFTER    THE 

ATTACK  ON  SEBASTOPOL DIFFICULTY  OF  TRANSACTING    BUSINESS  WITH 

•A  TURKISH  MINISTRY  —  WRETCHED  STATE  OF  TURKISH  AFFAIRS  — 
CAIQUEJEES,  THEIR  DRESS  AND  APPEARANCE — "  BONO"  AND  "NO 
BONO" A  PROPOSED  KIOSK  AT  ORTA-KIOY. 

My  dear  Mother : 

I  have  just  returned  from  the  opposite  Asian 
shore,  where  I  have  again  been  exploring  the  palace 
built  by  the  Viceroy  of  Egypt,  and  presented  by  him 
to  the  Sultan.  It  is  unfinished  and  deserted,  and  will 
most  probably  be  allowed  to  fall  to  the  ground,  after 
vast  sums  of  money  have  evidently  been  lavished 
upon  it.  The  doors  were  wide  open,  and  a  number 
of  sheep  and  goats  either  gamboling  about  or  dozing 
in  the  spacious  hall.  Many  of  the  rooms  are  truly 
magnificent,  with  fine  colored  marble  floors ;  but  the 
painting,  or  rather  daubing,  of  the  walls  and  ceilings 
is  the  most  tawdry  and  barbarous  that  can  be  con 
ceived.  The  view  on  all  sides  is  enchanting,  and  on 
all  sides  different ;  you  turn  from  the  lofty  plane-trees 
of  the  Sultan's  Valley  and  the  wild  hills  of  Asia,  to  a 
sea  view  of  great  extent.  It  was  a  fine  sight  here  just 
after  the  attack  on  Sebastopol ;  the  Bosphorus  was 
literally  crowded  with  ships;  one  day  we  counted, 
slowly  steaming  up,  fifteen  immense  transports, 
French  and  English.  To-day  it  was  a  south  wind, 
and  the  full  white  sails  of  several  ships  had  a  most 
beautiful  effect,  slowly  and  majestically  moving  up 

(104) 


THE   TURKISH   MINISTRY.  105 

between  the  dark  green  shores,  the  sky  brilliantly 
tinted  with  rose  color,  and  the  water  of  its  usual  lovely 
blue. 

Lady  Eobinson  is  as  much  charmed  with  this  place 
as  I  am,  and  we  take  many  pleasant  excursions  to 
gether.  Edmund  is  getting  anxious  and  dispirited  at 
the  very  great  difficulties  he  has  to  encounter  with 
the  Turkish  ministry,  and  can  seldom  join  us  now; 
indeed  it  is  impossible  to  conceive  their  corrupt,  de 
graded,  and  shameful  way  of  proceeding,  unless  ac 
tually  before  your  eyes  every  day.  It  is  harassing 
and  heartless  work,  especially  to  an  active-minded 
man,  sitting  day  after  clay  on  a  divan,  smoking  an 
immense  chibouque,  and  dragging  out  a  few  words 
of  business  in  a  dreamy  kind  of  way  at  intervals  of 
about  half  an  hour.  The  worst  part  is,  that  he  and 
his  colleague,  after  weeks  of  anxiety,  feel  that  they 
have  as  yet  gained  nothing,  and  have  only  been 
finessed  with.  What  must  not  Lord  Stratford  have 
borne  in  all  the  years  he  has  been  here !  However, 
the  Commission  are  fully  resolved  to  be  firm,  and  to 
do  their  best  to  prevent  the  money  of  the  loan  being 
spent  on  diamond  necklaces  or  new  slaves ;  although 
it  is  certainly  said  here  that  long  before  the  arrival  of 
the  gold,  certain  members  of  the  Turkish  ministry 
had  obtained  advances  from  their  Saraffs  at  high  in 
terest,  in  anticipation  of  their  share  of  the  plunder. 
A  Greek  banker,  supposed  to  be  one  of  the  lenders, 
himself  told  us  so,  besides  one  or  two  other  persons. 

Every  thing  here  is  in  the  most  deplorable  state ;  the 
Sultan  is  deeply  in  debt,  even  at  the  bazaars,  for  the 
dress  and  jewels  of  his  numerous  seraglio,  yet  he  still 
persists  in  spending  vast  sums  in  building  new  palaces 


106  IN   AND   AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

and  making  presents.  The  public  buildings,  once 
revered  mosques  and  fountains,  are  wretchedly  dilapi 
dated  and  neglected-looking ;  the  soldiers,  meagre,  de 
jected,  miserably  clothed,  and  worse  armed.  Edmund 
heard  at  the  Porte  the  other  day  that  Omar  Pasha 
had  written  to  the  Seraskier  (Minister  of  War),  bit 
terly  complaining  that  for  many  months  his  troops 
had  received  no  pay,  and  were  beginning  to  get  dis 
pirited  and  doubtful  of  his  promises,  which  was  most 
unfortunate  just  at  a  moment  when  their  services 
might  be  required.  On  investigation  it  was  discov 
ered  that  the  general  had  written  twice  before,  that 
a  large  sum  of  money  had  been  remitted  which  he 
had  never  received,  and  that  the  receipt,  apparently 
in  his  handwriting,  had  been  forged. 

This  must  have  been  done  by  some  one  placed  very 
near  him  it  is  said,  but  no  inquiry  has  been  made 
as  to  the  guilty  person.  Major  Fellowes  was  saying, 
the  other  day,  that  English  officers  ought  to  be  ap 
pointed  to  pay  the  Turkish  soldiers,  as  it  is  notorious 
that  for  months  the  poor  fellows  are  cheated  in  the 
most  daring  manner  by  Turkish  officers  high  in  com 
mand.  The  Turkish  soldier  is  in  general  profoundly 
ignorant,  with  no  idea  of  reckoning ;  if  the  paymaster 
gives  him  five  shillings  instead  of  five  pounds,  he 
takes  them  silently — only  he  becomes  in  time  dis 
pirited.  Their  commissariat  also  cheat  them  in  the 
most  heartless  and  disgraceful  manner ;  but,  though 
done  in  the  broad  face  of  day,  these  things  are  un 
noticed  here.  All  officials  being  corrupt,  a  man  who 
robs  by  hundreds  or  even  thousands,  is  not  likely  to 
place  any  check  upon  the  crowds  of  paltry  pilferers 
below  him.  To  shame,  a  Turkish  ministry  is  per- 


RICH   AND   POOR.  107 

fectly  indifferent;  and  from  all  one  hears,  the  resto 
ration  of  Mehemet  Ali  is  a  new  proof  of  this.  What 
he  must  be,  to  be  distinguished  for  vice  and  cruelty 
here,  it  is  difficult  for  an  English  mind  to  conceive. 
Although  the  Sultan's  brother-in-law,  he  is  but  just 
recalled  from  banishment,  and  reinstated  in  his  post 
of  Capitan  Pasha,  or  Lord  High  Admiral.  He  was 
once  a  slave  and  a  butcher-boy.  Sultan  Mahmoud 
happened  to  see  and  take  a  fancy  to  him,  and  gave 
him  an  appointment  in  the  palace. 

One  thing  which  strikes  you  here  is  the  vast  supe 
riority  of  the  poor  over  the  rich.  The  poor  are  really 
the  aristocracy  of  the  country,  both  physically  and 
morally.  For  his  dignified  bearing  and  manners,  a 
poor  man  might  be  an  emperor  :  he  is  honest,  la 
borious,  and  most  abstemious.  A  year  or  two  of 
"  place"  under  this  disgraceful  system,  and  the  curious 
turns  of  fortune  here,  enervate  and  degrade  him 
in  body  and  mind.  There  seems  no  honest  work 
for  honest  men  to  do,  except  to  rear  a  few  grapes  and 
melons,  to  row  a  caique,  or  bear  heavy  burdens  on 
their  backs.  The  whole  system  is  one  of  bribery  and 
corruption,  and  a  "  place"  can  only  be  kept  by  doing 
as  others  do.  The  most  amusing  thing  is  that  the 
Turks  boast  of  the  line  code  of  laws,  which  they  cer 
tainly  possess,  and  which  is  about  of  as  much  use 
to  the  wretched  people  as  the  Queen's  jewels  in  the 
Tower  are  to  our  village  belles  on  May-day. 

Colonel  Hinde,  who  is  well  acquainted  with  all 
classes  here,  was  saying  the  other  day  that  the  respect 
able  people  were  the  caiquejees,  the  hamals,  and  the 
banditti,  who  are  usually  those  that  have  been  driven 
"  to  the  .mountains"  by  some  act  of  cruelty  and  op- 


108  IN   AND   AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

pression.  Of  the  latter  I  cannot  give  an  opinion,  not 
having  yet  had  the  pleasure  of  making  the  acquaint 
ance  of  any  of  them.  The  caiquejees  are  the  most 
magnificent  men  in  the  world,  sunburnt  of  a  fine 
bronze  color.  Their  summer  dress  is  a  wide-sleeved 
jacket  and  trousers  of  white  Broussa  gauze  (some 
thing  between  a  thick  gauze  and  muslin),  which  con 
trasts  well  with  the  scarlet  fez  and  its  large  purple 
silk  tassel.  Here  and  there  are  seen  one  or  two  of 
the  old  school,  with  turban  and  fine  long  beard, 
which  adds  greatly  to  the  nobility  and  picturesque  - 
ness  of  their  appearance. 

There  is  one  particularly  grand-looking  old  man, 
whom  I  often  notice  at  Tophana.  He  wears  a  green 
turban,  showing  him  to  be  a  descendant  of  the  Pro 
phet,  and  has  a  silvery  beard,  which  makes  it  diffi 
cult  not  to  bow  to  him  as  to  some  ancient  hero.  He 
certainly  might  be  Sultan  Amurath,  or  Murad  of  the 
"  great  soul,  patient  of  labors,"  moving  about  silently 
amongst  his  people  again. 

I  cannot  discover  that  the  caiquejees  have  any 
songs  peculiar  to  themselves,  like  those  of  Venetian 
gondoliers,  or  the  Neapolitan  fishermen.  Their  voices 
in  speaking,  especially  those  of  the  Turks,  are  very 
rich  and  sonorous  ;  but,  to  our  ears,  all  voices,  in  this 
country  in  singing  are  far  from  melodious.  I  often 
hear  them  chanting  in  a  minor  key,  but  it  is  harsh, 
monotonous,  and  grating. 

The  caiquejees  seem  to  be  generally  quiet,  peaceable 
men ;  but  when  they  do  quarrel  before  our  windows, 
their  torrent  of  anger  is  something  marvelous.  Kest- 
ing  on  their  oars,  a  few  yards  apart,  they  pour  forth 
an  avalanche  of  wrath  with  the  most  inconceivable  ra- 


PREPARE   TO   LEAVE   THERAPIA.  109 

pidity  and  violence ;  the  long  sentences  seeming  to 
have  no  resting-places,  where  you  could  throw  in  the 
tenth  part  of  a  comma,  or  even  take  breath.  The 
storm  usually  subsides,  just  as  those  on  the  Bosphorus 
itself,  as  suddenly  as  it  came  on,  and  each  gentleman 
rows  majestically  on  his  way,  looking  calm  and  un 
ruffled  as  usual.  Although  so  strong  and  muscu 
lar,  a  crust  of  brown  bread,  and  a  melon  or  bunch 
of  grapes,  is  their  usual  summer  repast,  with  an  oc 
casional  dish  of  pilauf — i.  e.,  rice  boiled  with  a  few 
tomatoes  to  color  it,  and  mixed  with  scraps  of 
meat. 

Some  of  them,  especially  the  Greeks,  speak  a  little 
Italian  or  French ;  but  signs,  "  bono,"  or  "  no  bono," 
(nobody  condescends  to  say  "  bwono"),  and  "  Johnny," 
does  every  thing  here  since  the  war  began.  I  heard 
one  of  them  say  to  an  English  officer  the  other  day, 
"  Coom  Johnny !"  in  a  most  persuasive  manner,  and 
"  Johnny"  threw  himself  discontentedly  into  the 
painted  and  gilt  caique,  calling  it  a  "  confounded  egg 
shell,"  and  not  seeming  at  all  happy  in  the  arrange 
ment  of  his  long  legs  and  great  sword. 

This  is  our  last  week  at  Therapia.  The  steamers 
cannot  always  run  in  the  winter ;  a  caique  would  be 
impossible  in  stormy  weather ;  and,  as  there  are  no 
roads,  it  would  be  much  too  far  for  Edmund  to  ride 
night  and  morning  to  his  "  chambers"  at  Stamboul. 
So  we  have  taken  a  pretty  little  kiosk,  half-way  up 
the  hill  of  Orta-kioy,  a  village  about  seven  miles  from 
Constantinople ;  and  I  shall  soon  be  launched  into  all 
the  difficulties  of  English  housekeeping  in  the  East. 
We  have  bought  Colonel  Pitt's  kit  and  pack-saddle ; 
a  few  tables  and  chairs,  a  kettle,  saucepans,  plates, 
10 


110  IN   AND   AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

etc.,  from  Pera,  of  an  intelligent  little  German  there ; 
nice  mattresses  and  pretty  quilts  from  the  bazaar  at 
Stamboul ;  Turkish  coffee-cups  in  their  tiny  stands ; 
chibouques  with  amber  mouthpieces ;  a  nargileh,  and 
a  little  brasier  for  charcoal.  This,  with  a  divan,  and 
a  lovely  view  of  the  Bosphorus,  will  be  indeed  charm 
ing — a  kind  of  perpetual  pic-nic.  General  Beatson's 
little  daughters  have  given  me  their  three  pretty  cana 
ries,  which  have  been  camping  it  at  the  Dardanelles 
with  them  all  the  summer,  and  are  exceedingly  tame. 
I  told  you  that  the  general,  with  a  glittering  staff  of 
Bashi-Bazouks,  has  been  staying  here ;  and  how  sorry 
I  was  when  Mrs.  Beatson  and  her  charming  little  girls 
left  for  Malta.  They  were  so  kind  and  gentle  in 
doors,  that  one  could  scarcely  believe  them  to  be  the 
same  children  who  rode  the  most  fiery  Arab  horses 
over  the  Osmanli  camp,  to  the  surprise  and  admiration 
of  their  father's  wild  troops,  who  positively  adored  them. 
Although  there  are  many  discomforts  in  living  this 
kind  of  camp  life  at  an  hotel,  I  shall  be  sorry  to  leave 
Therapia — gay,  beautiful,  sparkling  Therapia — for  a 
half-burnt-down  Turkish  village.  Lord  and  Lady 
Stratford  de  Redcliffe  are  very  kind  to  us ;  and  there 
are  several  English  people  here  whom  we  know,  and 
our  Sardinian  commodore,  and  good  Doctor  Zohrab, 
and  Madame  Baltazzi's  beautiful  garden,  in  which  I 
often  stroll  with  her,  and  the  walk  to  Buyukdere,  with 
the  white  tents  and  little  red  flags  looking  down  on  one 
from  the  hills,  reminding  one  of  pleasant  days  at  Chob- 
ham;  and  "  church"  on  Sunday  mornings  at  the  hospi 
tal  with  the  poor  invalid  soldiers.  How  much  more  there 
always  seems  to  be  to  leave  in  a  place,  just  as  you  are 
going ! 


LETTEK    XIY. 

REMOVAL  TO  ORTA-KIOY — VOYAGE — ROUGH  SEA — ARRIVAL — DIFFICUL 
TIES — ARMENIAN  NEIGHBORS — FIRE-GUNS  AT  NIGHT— ROLL  OF  DRUMS 
AND  DISCHARGE  OF  MUSKETRY  AT  THE  SULTAN'S  PALACE  AT  DAY 
BREAK. 

Orta-kioy,  November  24th,  1855, 

My  dear  Mother : 

I  must  tell  you  something  of  our  grand  "  move" 
from  Therapia.  We  paid  our  visits  of  adieu,  and 
then  packed  up,  with  stout  but  misgiving  hearts, 
agreeing  that  whatever  might  happen  to  us,  nothing 
could  be  so  bad  as  the  noise,  and  terrible  expense  of 
the  hotels  in  this  time  of  war,  especially  for  a  continu 
ance. 

Unfortunately,  on  the  morning  we  were  to  start, 
Edmund  had  an  unforeseen  appointment  at  Stamboul ; 
so  I  must  start  alone,  we  thought ;  for  "  our  Commo 
dore,"  Signor  di  Negri,  who  had  kindly  offered  to  put 
me  in  his  beautiful  little  steamer,  baggage  and  all,  was 
obliged  to  go  cruising  about  in  the  Black  Sea,  to  look 
for  a  vessel  from  Balaklava,  which,  it  was  reported, 
had  gone  down  in  the  late  storm,  with  all  the  Sardin 
ian  invalids  on  board,  who  were  returning  home. 
This,  I  regret  to  say,  has  turned  out  to  be  too  true. 
Poor  Signor  di  Negri  is  sadly  grieved  about  his  fellow- 
officers  and  countrymen. 

It  was  a  very  stormy  morning.  I  said  good-by  to 
Lady  Eobinson,  who  was  starting  for  England  with 
her  invalid  son.  He  came  down  sick  from  the  Crimea 

(in) 


112  IN   AND   AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

after  the  taking  of  Sebastopol,  when  all  the  previous 
anxiety  and  excitement  was  over,  and  many  broke 
down.  He  had  slept  in  the  trenches  the  night  before 
the  attack,  fearing  that  from  weakness  caused  by  fever, 
he  should  be  unable  to  return  when  his  time  came 
round  again,  and  giving  his  cloak  to  a  poor  wounded 
soldier,  had  a  relapse  himself,  in  consequence  of  expo 
sure  to  the  chilly  night-air.  He  has  suffered  very  much 
here,  and  certainly  needed  his  mother's  devoted  nurs 
ing.  This  morning  he  was  lying  on  the  sofa,  dressed, 
the  first  time  for  weeks,  in  regimentals,  which  hung 
loosely  upon  him,  and  trying  to  recover  from  the  fa 
tigue  of  getting  up,  before  the  caique  should  come  to 
put  them  on  board  ship  for  England,  and  the  home 
which  they  were  so  anxious  to  reach,  after  much  suf 
fering  and  anxiety.  We  were  glad,  and  yet  so  sorry, 
to  see  them  off. 

The  Bosphorus  was  rough,  and  it  looked  so  stormy 
that  I  felt  a  little  anxious  about  my  voyage  to  Orta- 
kioy,  short  as  it  was.  Hovever,  Edmund  found  me  a 
kind  and  efficient  escort;  so  we  started, — Edmund 
mounted  on  Turk,  and  bound  for  Stamboul ;  Al 
and  I  in  a  two-oared  caique ;  our  luggage,  including 
the  much-prized  "  kit,"  in  Signor  Patela's  Maltese  boat, 
manned  by  two  sturdy  Greeks,  and  the  white  sail  set. 
The  canaries,  being  Bashi-Bazouks,  and  accustomed  to 
move  about,  seemed  to  enjoy  the  fun ;  but,  tell  Edith, 
my  poor  little  Turkish  goldfinch  fluttered,  and  spoiled 
his  gay  wings  sadly. 

We  got  on  very  well  for  some  distance,  the  wind 
being  in  our  favor ;  but  the  Bosphorus  was  angry  in 
deed,  and  in  one  of  the  strong  currents,  "snap"  went 
an  oar.  I  was  glad  enough  not  to  be  alone.  M 


KEMOVAL   TO   ORTA-KIOY.  113 

was  very  angry  that  the  men  had  not  the  usual  spare 
one ;  and  when  it  was  too  late,  we  noticed  the  leaky 
and  crazy  state  of  the  caique.  The  weather  looked 
still  more  threatening,  and  as  Therapia  was  yet  in 
sight,  M—  -  ordered  the  boatmen  to  turn  back  ;  but 
the  wind  had  increased  so  much,  that  it  would  have 
been  difficult,  even  with  the  two  pairs  of  oars,  to  have 
rowed  against  that  and  the  current  too.  So  nothing 
remained  but  to  follow  the  dancing  white  sail  of  the 
little  Maltese  boat,  now  far  before  us,  and  to  pull  on 
toward  Orta-kioy.  M —  —  assured  me  that  he  was  a 
first-rate  swimmer ;  and  in  case  of  our  being  upset,  I 
fixed  upon  a  nice  strong  piece  of  his  coat,  on  which  we 
agreed  that  I  should  hold  fast  and  quietly  while  he  swam 
ashore.  He  swims  in  the  Bosphorus  every  morning, 
and  knows  its  rapid  and  treacherous  currents  well ; 
but  it  was  not  fated  on  this  day  that  we  should  dance 
on  the  waves  together.  However,  we  got  wet  enough 
notwithstanding  cloaks ;  for  two  dark  clouds,  tired  of 
hanging  over  the  cypresses  of  Kandelji,  threw  them 
selves  precipitately  from  the  Asian  hills  into  the  Bos 
phorus.  In  western  language,  there  was  a  tremen 
dous  shower. 

Our  caique  was  half  filled,  and  ourselves  completely 
drenched.  You  must  know  that  we  had  an  umbrella, 
and  that,  sitting  at  the  bottom  of  the  boat,  as  one  does 
here,  we  ought  not  to  have  got  so  wet,  about  the 
shoulders  at  least ;  but  M is  in  love,  quite  hope 
lessly,  and  quite  "  in  secret."  Whether  the  rain  made 
him  more  desponding  or  not,  I  do  not  know.  It  is 
very  hard,  but,  wet  or  dry,  people  always  make  me 

their  confidante  in  these  matters.     M wrapped  me 

kindly  in  his  cloak,  then,  pulling  it  so  as  to  let  all  the 


114  IN   AND  AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

water  in,  and  sighing  like  Eomeo  himself,  began  to  tell 
me  his  sad  story,  to  which  I  listened  with  an  interest 
not  even  interrupted  by  a  wave  dashing  the  spray  into 
our  faces  now  and  then,  or  a  little  stream  of  water 
pouring  into  my  shoe.  But  at  one  part  of  the  rela 
tion  of  his  outraged  feelings,  I  visibly  shuddered,  and 
my  pity  filled  his  handsome  Greek  eyes  with  tears. 
He  was  holding  the  umbrella  on  one  side — infatuated 
youth  ! — and  a  threadlike  stream  of  ice-cold  water 
was  trickling  down  the  back  of  my  neck.  In  another 
quarter  of  an  hour,  the  story  and  the  shower-bath 
were  both  over,  and  we  landed  in  brilliant  susnhine, 
on  the  little  wooden  quay  of  Orta-kioy,  where,  among 
caiquejees  mopping  and  drying  their  caiques,  and  a 
few  Turks,  with  rich-colored  turbans,  quietly  mend 
ing  their  nets,  or  fishing  with  a  line  twined  round 
the  hand,  stood  our  kind  friend,  Mr.  Barker,  who  had 
come  to  greet  and  welcome  me,  thinking  I  might  be 
alone.  .  We  stopped  a  moment  to  admire  the  beautiful 
snow-white  mosque,  with  two  minarets,  which  the 
sultan  has  just  built  here ;  and  then,  through  the 
filthiest  village  I  had  yet  seen,  looking  still  more  deso 
late  from  having  been  half  burnt  down  about  a  year 
ago,  and  not  yet  rebuilt ;  the  bakers  still  selling  their 
bread  under  dripping  and  ragged  tents,  and  the  wild 
dogs  snapping  and  shivering  in  the  ruins  of  the 
houses,  we  toiled  up  the  hill. 

For  a  moment  my  spirits  fell,  and  I  thought  to 
myself:  "How  long  will  it  be  our  fate  to  live  in  this 
wretched  place?"  However,  when  we  arrived  at  the 
pretty  little  house,  shut-in  in  a  nice  garden,  it  did  not 
seem  so  bad.  Mr.  Barker  and  I  went  in,  while  M— 
kindly  saw  that  the  Maltese  boat  gave  up  its  load  in 


ABMEMIAN   NEIGHBORS.  115 

safety  to  the  hamals,  who  were  soon  seen  toiling  up 
the  hill  with  the  cherished  "  kit,"  etc.,  on  their  backs, 
our  canaries,  portmanteaus,  and  the  goldfinch. 

The  Greek  maid,  Calliope,  had  arrived,  all  smiles 
and  chatter.  She  was  recommended  to  us  by  a  Greek 
lady  of  our  acquaintance,  who  declares  that  the  sister, 
Diamanti,  now  living  with  her,  is  also  a  "  treasure." 
I  did  not  much  like  the  look  of  her,  although  she  cer 
tainly  improves  a  little  on  acquaintance. 

After  changing  what  I  could  of  my  wet  garments, 
I  took  a  survey  of  what  had  arrived  from  Pera.  First 
of  all,  no  provisions ;  not  one  thing  of  the  list  I  had 
made  a  week  ago ;  no  tables,  no  chairs,  no  linen,  no 
cook.  It  was  "  supposed,"  smilingly,  by  Calliope,  that 
that  functionary  had  been  offered  higher  wages,  and 
had  gone  to  the  Crimea,  where  he  had  been  before 
with  a  French  general.  Calliope  was  worse  than  use 
less,  and  said  that  she  would  not  go  into  that  miser 
able-looking  Turkish  village  alone  for  the  world. 
She  is  from  Smyrna. 

I  was  in  great  distress  at  the  thought  of  Edmund 
coming  home  after  a  hard  day's  work,  and  finding 
nothing  ready.  Our  bedding  was  the  only  thing  that 
had  arrived,  and  Mr.  Barker  kindly  sallied  forth  to 
look  for  an  Armenian  Jew  of  the  village,  who  pro 
fessed  a  little  carpentering.  When  he  was  gone,  in 
stalked,  up  the  stairs,  into  the  salaamlik  where  I  was, 
slipshod  and  in  single  file,  the  Armenian  lady  next 
door,  to  whom  the  house  belongs,  two  daughters,  and 
three  sons,  who  each  saluted  me  after  the  Eastern 
fashion,  touching  the  lips  and  forehead :  which  means, 
metaphorically,  "  I  gather  up  dirty  I  eat  it,  and  cast  it 
on  my  head,  in  sign  of  submission  and  respect  to  you." 


116  IN   AND   AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

I  motioned  with  my  "hand  to  the  divan,  upon  which, 
with  many  bows  and  much  ceremony,  they  at  last 
seated  themselves  all  in  a  row.  I  don't  know  whether 
they  spoke  Turkish  or  Armenian,  and  it  signified  lit 
tle  to  me,  who  could  not  understand  one  single  word 
of  either. 

It  was  certainly  a  trial  of  patience,  with  so  much  to 
do,  to  sit  quietly  and  courteously  to  be  stared  at  from 
head  to  foot,  to  have  one's  mantle,  dress,  and  collar 
both  felt  and  examined  ;  and  observations  made  there 
on,  both  viva,  voce  and  translated  in  dumb-show  to 
the  three  poor  mutes,  who  nodded  and  grunted  in  a 
must  distressing  manner.  I  think  I  told  you  that 
three  of  the  poor  lady's  children  are  dumb.  I  never 
felt  more  perplexed  and  uncomfortable  in  my  life,  and 
was  glad  when  Mr.  Barker  came  back  ;  with  no  Jew 
however  (for  he  had  forgotten  that  it  was  Saturday), 
but  much  better  still,  he  had  brought  his  daughter, 
who  speaks  both  English  and  Greek  perfectly  well. 
She  was  greatly  concerned  at  my  helpless  condition ; 
for  Mistress  Calliope  had  noAVput  on  a  smart  jacket, 
and  twisted  a  gay  Greek  handkerchief  round  her 
thick  plaits  of  hair,  and  was  quietly  seated  on  the 
divan,  answering  all  the  questions  of  the  Armenian 
ladies  about  us.  Kind  Miss  Barker  soon  gave  her  a 
hint  that  such  behavior  would  never  do  with  English 
people,  and  she  presently  condescended  to  stroll  away. 
But  still  there  was  no  one  even  to  help  me  do  a 
single  thing  ;  worst  of  all,  nothing  to  eat  when  dinner 
time  came,  and  a  dripping,  ruined  village  beneath  our 
windows,  which  looked  as  if  a  mouse  might  easily 
starve  there. 

At  last,  to  my  great  joy,  I  saw  Mr.  Grace's  man- 


DIFFICULTIES   OVEKCOME.  117 

servant  coming  up  the  hill,  sent  most  kindly  by  his 
master  to  us  from  Kandelij.  He  had  got  a  basket, 
"in  case  our  provisions  should  not  have  arrived/' 
containing  wine,  coffee,  nice  rolls,  and  several  other 
things  for  luncheon.  But  still  more  welcome  were  his 
intelligent,  working  face,  and  his  three  languages. 

First  of  all  he  dispatched  the  Armenians,  told 
Calliope  that  she  had  better  prevent  me  from  lifting 
things  about  myself,  than  sit  chattering  there,  helped 
me  to  unpack  the  kit  and  portmanteaus,  lighted  the 
kitchen  charcoal-stoves,  and  then  sallied  forth  into 
the  village.  To  look  into  the  basket  on  his  return 
from  that  heap  of  ruins  was  " pro-di-gi-ous."  First 
of  all,  a  dish  of  fine  red  mullet,  then  an  excellent 
fowl,  a  tiny  leg  of  mutton,  weighing  about  three 
pounds  and  a  half,  some  delicious  vegetables,  grapes, 
and  pomegranates,  and  a  bunch  of  sweet  autumn 
flowers. 

When  Edmund  came  home,  he  found  an  excellent 
little  dinner  (at  which  our  good  genius  and  the  now 
smiling  Calliope  waited),  and  the  salaamlik  quite  gay. 
We  had  borrowed  a  good-sized  table  from  the  Arme 
nian  lady,  and  a  smaller  one,  on  which  stood  the  flow 
ers  in  a  Turkish  vase,  and  the  little  "  Bashi-Bazouks" 
singing  merrily.  I  had  a  camp-stool  to  myself,  and 
Edmund  sat  like  a  Turk  on  the  divan.  We  afterward 
had  some  coffee  in  one  of  the  tin  mugs  of  our  beloved 
kit,  and  then  made  up  as  good  a  kind  of  gipsy  en 
campment  as  we  could  for  the  night,  on  the  divans  of 
the  different  rooms.  Calliope  melted  into  tears  at  the 
departure  of  our  excellent  Greek  ally,  who,  when  he 
had  done  all  he  could  for  us  returned  in  his  caique  to 
Kandelij. 


118  IN   AND   AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

At  night,  just  as  I  was  going  to  sleep,  the  windows 
shook  with  the  heavy  report  of  a  cannon.  My  first 
thought  was  of  Eussian  ships  having  passed  the  en 
trance  of  the  Bosphorus ;  but  I  soon  recollected  the 
fire-guns  of  which  I  had  heard.  The  heavy  crash  of 
seven  of  them,  at  regular  intervals  of  a  few  seconds, 
broke  on  the  quiet  night ;  and  then  the  peculiar  wail 
ing  cry  of  the  watchmen,  in  different  parts  of  the  vil 
lage,  announcing  fire,  and  the  striking  of  their  staves 
on  the  stones  close  by  our  door,  effectually  banished 
sleep  for  some  time.  Before  dawn  the  Armenian 
watchmen  chanted  to  prayers  at  the  doors  of  the 
latticed  house  opposite,  and  of  those  above  us.  It  is  a 
peculiar,  wailing  chant  in  the  minor,  and  strikes  one 
as  intensely  melancholy  at  first ;  one  of  them  begins, 
I  am  told :  "  Prayer  is  better  than  sleep."  Then, 
just  as  darkness  is  fading  into  the  pale,  gray  light 
of  daybreak,  the  discharge  of  musketry  and  the  roll  of 
drums  is  plainly  heard  from  the  Sultan's  palace  at 
Teheran,  followed  by  some  lively  Turkish  airs  with 
drums  and  fifes.  This  announces  that  the  "  Comman 
der  of  the  Faithful"  is  rising  to  prayers ;  and  soon 
the  powerful  chant  of  the  Muezzin  is  heard,  pealing 
up  the  valley  from  the  minarets  below.  You  can 
scarcely  imagine  how  strange  it  seems  to  be  sur 
rounded  by  such  unfamiliar  sounds,  especially  in  the 
night  time. 


LETTER    XV. 

OBTA-KIOY SERVANTS ARMENIAN      LADIES WORKWOMEN — VILLAGERS 

HOUSE    AND    GARDENS — ARMENIAN    COOKING VILLAGE    OF    BEBEC 

FRUIT   AND   FOOD — HIGH   PRICES — PERA — STATE   OF   CRIME. 

Orta-kioy,  November  24th,  1855. 
My  dear  Mother : 

I  must  now  tell  you  about  our  second  day 
here.  Edmund  rode  early  into  Pera,  promising  to  in 
quire  as  to  the  fate  of  our  missing  goods  and  chattels; 
and  after  he  was  gone,  I  tried  to  inspire  Calliope  with 
a  wish  to  make  our  really  pretty  little  house  look  a 
degree  less  wretched.  Fortunately  she  speaks  Italian 
indifferently  well. 

After  finishing  unpacking,  I  went  into  the  dining- 
room,  to  look  for  something  left  there  the  night  be 
fore.  Neglected  and  dusty,  in  a  corner,  stood  a  dingy 
grand-pianoforte,  bought  in  the  old  Armenian  lady's 
prosperous  days,  as  she  afterward  told  me.  I  opened 
it,  and  found  with  great  delight  that  it  was  not  yet 
quite  tuneless.  I  had  sung  about  half  my  cantata, 
when,  from  the  perfect  silence  and  emptiness  of  the 
house,  it  seemed  as  if  I  had  exorcised  a  host  of  strange 
beings ;  for,  flourishing  a  pair  of  huge  iron  pincers  in 
one  hand  and  some  strange-looking  instrument  in  the 
other,  with  the  wildest  and  most  discordant  gruntings 
and  gestures  you  can  conceive,  in  rushed  Simione,  one 
of  the  dumb  and  elfish-looking  Armenians.  What  he 
wanted  of  course  I  could  not  at  all  imagine — whether 
he  asked  leave  to  cut  off  my  head  (I  was  certainly  not 

(119)    ' 


120         IN  AND  AROUND  STAMBOUL. 

like  a  white  cat),  or  to  pull  out  all  my  teeth.  How 
ever,  I  thought  it;  best  to  seem  agreeable,  and  out  of 
the  room  my  visitor  rushed,  nodding  violently,  and 
grunting  as  perseveringly  as  usual.  Presently  he  re 
turned  with  a  Turk,  carrying  a  basket  of  tools,  who 
saluted  me,  and  spoke  some  very  magnificent,  but  to 
me  perfectly  unintelligible,  sentences  in  Turkish. 

Was  ever  poor  creature  so  perplexed  as  I!  Cal 
liope  had  entirely  disappeared.  Well,  up-stairs  these 
worthies  went,  I  thinking  it  as  well  to  follow.  Off 
they  threw  all  the  things  on  my  poor  camp-bed.  It 
was  merely  to  make  a  little  piece  of  ironwork  secure, 
which  had  been  broken  the  night  before,  in  putting 
up.  This  was  a  great  relief  to  my  feelings,  and  I 
could  not  help  laughing  at  the  absurd  position  in 
which  ignorance  of  a  language  places  one. 

While  the  Armenian  was  grunting  in  his  strange 
way  and  making  signs  to  the  Turk,  who  was  getting 
angry  at  my  not  taking  his  side  of  the  question  on 
being  appealed  to,  in  walked  again  the  Armenian 
lady  and  her  daughter.  They  had  with  them  a  vil 
lainous-looking  Jew,  in  a  large  turban  and  tattered 
Eastern  garments,  about  whom  they  began  making 
extraordinary  signs  and  grimaces. 

I  shall  certainly  go  distracted  here,  thought  I.  At 
last  I  comprehended  that  this  gentleman  offered  his 
services  to  clean  our  windows,  and,  holding  up  my 
fingers,  I  made  out  the  number  of  piastres  he  asked, 
and,  from  the  old  lady,  how  many  to  give,  which  was 
quite  a  different  thing.  He  cleaned  two  panes  but 
imperfectly,  and  then  slipped  away  without  asking 
for  any  thing.  I  suppose  he  was  vexed  at  not  obtain 
ing  double  the  proper  price.  I  was  almost  out  of 


ARMENIAN   LADIES   AND   SERVANTS.  121 

patience  with  the  Armenian  ladies,  who  again  seated 
themselves  on  the  divan,  and  again  seemed  to  find 
the  greatest  satisfaction  in  looking  at  me.  I  made 
signs  that  I  would  search  for  Calliope  to  interpret, 
and  crossed  the  little  garden  into  the  kitchen. 

There  was  an  old  Armenian  woman  of  the  village, 
who  had  taken  up  her  quarters  until  the  cook  should 
arrive.  She  was  dressed  in  very  picturesque  rags, 
and  had  thick  plaits  of  hair  bound  round  her  fez. 
I  was  rash  enough  to  attempt  showing  her  by  signs 
how  the  "  Inglesi"  liked  chops  cut,  etc.  All  I  got 
for  my  pains  was  a  patronizing  smile,  and  "Bono 
Johnny — bono  1"  with  a  fat  hand  stroking  down  my 
back  as  if  I  had  been  her  cat.  I  could  not  stand 
this ;  and,  after  inquiring  for  Calliope,  and  getting 
for  answer  a  shake  of  the  head,  decamped  with  the 
utmost  precipitation. 

Presently  the  young  lady  returned,  and  informed 
me  that  feeling  it  dull  (troppo  tristo),  she  had  been 
to  pay  a  visit  to  Mrs.  Barker's  maid,  Espina,  who  was 
delighted  to  see  her ;  then  entering  into  a  lively  con 
versation  with  the  Armenian  ladies,  she  took  them 
into  my  room,  and  showed  them  my  English  dresses, 
dressing-case,  etc.  At  last,  to  my  great  relief,  they 
departed,  with  many  salaams;  and  I  am  happy  to 
say,  that  it  is  as  Miss  Barker  assured  me  it  would  be — 
"  that  when  they  had  thoroughly  stared  at  rne,  and 
seen  all  the  English  things,  even  to  the  reels  of  cot 
ton,  which  I  possessed,  their  curiosity  would  subside, 
and  my  torments  be  over."  So  I  took  courage  again, 
and  began  to  hope  that  in  time  I  might  get  a  little 
peace. 

These  last  two  days  have  made  a  difference  in  the 
11 


122  IN    AND   ABOUND    STAMBOUL. 

appearance  of  our  little  kiosk.  Three  hamals  came 
toiling  up  the  hill  the  other  morning,  and  to  my  great 
satisfaction  battered  at  the  ponderous  knocker  of  our 
garden-door.  They  had  at  last  brought  up  a  caique- 
load  of  furniture  from  Pera.  Nobody  thinks  of  ask 
ing  why  things  are  delayed  here,  so  we  took  them  in, 
and  were  thankful.  Our  salaamlik  really  looks  very 
pretty. 

Edmund  bought  me  a  piece  of  chintz  and  plenty  of 
white  muslin,  at  the  bazaar  at  Stamboul,  and  I  at 
last  shamed  Calliope  by  setting  resolutely  at  work  to 
cover  the  divans  and  hem  the  curtains.  The  village 
women  here  seem  to  be  perfectly  uneducated,  and 
there  was  no  such  thing  as  a  workwoman  at  Orta- 
kioy.  Perhaps,  after  waiting  for  weeks,  we  might 
have  secured  the  services  of  a  French  upholsterer 
from  Pera,  at  a  great  expense ;  but  you  at  once  see 
that  the  only  plan  is  to  help  yourself  in  every  way  as 
much  as  possible,  unless  you  have  a  complete  staff  of 
vour  own,  which  all  large  families,  whether  Turkish, 
Greek,  Armenian,  or  European,  have.  It  is  difficult 
to  get  good  servants  here.  The  educated  ones  are 
very  clever,  and  ask  high  wages,  especially  during 
the  war.  The  mass,  as  I  have  said,  are  perfectly 
ignorant,  and  almost  useless  to  civilized  people. 
However,  their  lives  and  ways  are  so  utterly  different 
from  ours,  that  it  always  seems  rather  absurd  to  me 
to  hear  the  English  complain  of  them.  Give  them 
their  pilauf,  their  old  divan,  a  little  sunshine  under  a 
ragged  vine  in  summer,  and  a  brass  pan  full  of  char 
coal  in  winter,  and  voila  tout  All  articles  of  clothing 
are  bought  ready-made,  and  made  by  men,  in  the 
bazaars ;  the  national  shirt,  of  Broussa  gauze  admits 


THE    VILLAGE.  123 

of  and  requires  but  little  washing ;  consequently 
workwomen  and  washerwomen  are  not  indigenous  to 
the  soil,  although  no  doubt  the  increasing  taste  for 
dressing  in  the  European  fashion,  among  the  higher 
class  of  Greeks  and  Armenians,  will  soon  make  them 
so.  The  people  of  the  villages  seem  very  hopeless 
and  helpless,  and  care  to  do  nothing.  Certainly  their 
wants  are  but  few,  but  how  they  live  is  a  marvel ;  for 
you  see  them  silently  sitting  in  a  moldy  shop,  in 
which  there  is  nothing  to  sell. 

As  I  told  you,  the  lower  part  of  this  village  has  been 
burnt  down,  and  many  of  the  people  are  still  living, 
with  their  children,  alternately  scorched  by  the  sun 
and  drenched  by  wind  and  rain,  in  wretched  tents 
among  the  ruins,  where  they  may  remain  for  months 
and  years,  or  until  they  are  all  carried  off  by  some 
epidemic,  for  nobody  cares  for  them  here.  Across 
these  moldering  ruins,  where  the  dogs  howl  most 
horridly  at  night,  and  melancholy-looking  Jews  and 
Armenians  stalk  by  day,  we  have  a  lovely  peep  of  the 
Bosphorus,  its  shores  fringed  with  palaces. 

The  two  beautiful  white  minarets  of  the  Sultan's 
mosque  are  illuminated  to-night,  and  look  very  pretty, 
wreathed  with  lamps  round  the  little  balustrade,  on 
which  the  Muezzins  appear  three  times  a  day  to  call 
the  Faithful  to  prayer.  They  shine  on  beauty  and 
splendor  enough  on  one  side,  and  on  poverty,  dirt, 
and  ruin  on  the  other.  This  place  certainly  makes 
one's  heart  ache. 

Simione,  the  dumb  Armenian,  has  been  very  busy 
in  the  garden  to-day,  moving  his  orange  and  lemon 
trees,  tree-geraniums,  jasmines,  and  acacias,  into  the 
little  conservatory  for  the  winter.  I  am  delighted 


124  IN   AND   ABOUND   STAMBOUL. 

to  say  that  he  has  allowed  me  to  choose  as  many 
as  I  please,  to  be  considered  mine;  so  I  have  lined 
the  salaamlik,  and  the  little  room  beyond  (which 
has  a  charming  view  of  Scutari),  with  trees,  six  or 
seven  feet  high,  and  bearing  both  fruit  and  flowers. 
Our  floors  are  covered  with  matting  from  Alexandria, 
and  here  and  there  a  Turkish  rug  or  two  is  thrown 
down  by  the  divan.  My  muslin  curtains  and  blinds 
shut  out  as  much  as  possible  of  the  ruins,  and  only 
let  in,  by  some  of  our  numerous  windows,  the  oppo 
site  hills  of  Asia,  and  the  blue  water,  and  the  minarets. 
So  I  wish  you  could  see  how  pretty  our  rooms  are, 
with  embroidered  cloths  from  Stamboul  over  our  deal 
tables,  the  vase  of  beautiful  Eastern  flowers,  and 
Edmund's  amber-mouthed  chibouques.  Our  stock  of 
books  is  very  small,  and,  except  for  an  occasional 
chance  of  borrowing  one,  there  are  none  to  be  got 
here,  so  pray  send  me  a  few,  should  an  opportunity 
offer — not  forgetting  the  Arabian  Nights,  and  Mr. 
Meredith's  Eastern  Tales,  which  I  hear  are  very 
charming.  We  now  get  the  "  Spectator"  every  week 
with  our  letters ;  and  news  from  England  and  from 
home,  make  a  very  happy  evening.  In  the  midst  of 
so  much  that  is  pleasant  however,  I  must  admit  that 
we  are  half-starved.  The  cook  whom  we  had  engaged 
has  really  started  off  to  the  Crimea,  where  they  are 
getting  eight  pounds  a  month,  and  the  old  Armenian 
woman  makes  us  positively  sick.  Yesterday  she 
mashed  up  some  lamb  in  fat,  and  we  were  only  able  to 
shake  out  a  few  small  pieces  with  a  fork,  just  as  dogs 
do  a  hot  bit  with  their  noses.  She  evidently  thought 
this  dish  a  triumph,  and  asked  inquiringly  and  tenderly, 
"  Bono  Johnny  ?"  I  was  sorry  to  be  obliged  to  reply 


FKUIT   AND   FOOD.  125 

most  decidedly  and  with  a  gesture  of  disgust,  "  No 
bono."  If  we  were  only  near  the  bazaars,  we  might 
at  least  feed  upon  pilauf  and  cabeb.  If  Red-jacket 
(whose  Armenian  name  is  unpronounceable)  would 
only  let  me  alone,  I  might  manage  to  cook  something 
myself ;  there  is  a  beautiful  frying-pan  with  a  folding 
handle  in  our  kit ;  but  to  stand  an  incessant  torrent 
of  Greek  while  hanging  over  a  charcoal-stove,  to  be 
called  "  Bono  Johnny,"  and  to  be  patted  on  the  back, 
is  more  than  my  philosophy  can  well  put  up  with. 
However,  we  have  heard  of  a  very  good  cook,  who  is 
leaving  an  officer  at  Scutari,  and  whom  we  hope  to 
secure. 

Here  the  men-servants  go  out  to  buy  every  morn 
ing.  Mrs.  Barker  kindly  allows  her  man  to  do  so  for 
me,  and  he  gives  a  written  account  of  the  number  of 
piastres  spent.  Strangers  of  course  are  very  easily 
cheated,  but  old  inhabitants  know  pretty  well  what 
the  price  of  things  should  be,  and  the  buyers  cannot 
make  much  by  their  morning's  work,  although  it  is 
said  they  almost  invariably  do  a  little.  Meat  is  now 
about  eight  piastres  the  "  oke,"  i.  e.  two  pounds  and 
a  half  English  weight ;  tea,  as  in  England ;  coffee, 
very  cheap.  The  Turkish  bread  is  made  of  leaven, 
and  to  my  taste  extremely  nasty.  It  is  made  up  into 
various  shapes ;  sometimes  into  huge  loaves,  or  flat, 
like  pancakes,  or  in  wreaths,  and  scattered  over  with 
a  kind  of  caraway-seed,  when  it  is  called  semeet. 

We  have  heard  of  an  American  missionary  baker 
at  the  village  of  Bebec,  near  here,  and  some  day  I 
shall  take  a  caique  and  go  in  search  of  him;  espe 
cially  as  Bebec  is  one  of  the  most  picturesque  villages 
on  the  Bosphorus.  Vegetables  and  fruit  are  very 


IN    AND   AROUND    STAMBOUL. 

cheap,  and,  even  in  this  miserable  village,  the  stalls 
in  the  narrow  and  filthy  "street"  are  prettily  laid  out 
in  a  morning.  Here  too,  in  large  baskets,  one  sees 
the  fish  of  the  Bosphorus  in  singular  variety : — red 
mullet,  sword-fish,  turbot,  soles,  beautiful  little  mac 
kerel  ;  and  the  shining,  many  -  colored  "  enchanted 
fish,"  of  which  I  have  told  you  before,  besides  several 
others.  Snails,  of  a  light  brown  color,  are  very  much 
eaten  here  by  the  Greeks,  and  huge  baskets  of  them 
are  sold  every  morning.  Sometimes  one  sees  an  un 
fortunate  tortoise  carried  along  by  a  wisp  of  straw  or 
grass.  He  is  to  be  made  soup  of  on  a  Greek  fast- 
day,  and  has  been  found  fast  asleep  in  a  vineyard. 
The  melon-stalls  are  usually  the  most  crowded,  and 
immense  piles  of  every  shape  and  color  are  quickly 
sold.  Brown  bread,  melons,  and  grapes,  seem  to  be 
the  principal  food  of  the  poor ;  coffee,  yahoort  (a  kind 
of  sour  milk),  lemonade,  and  sherbet,  are  sold  in 
every  corner  of  the  street  for  them.  The  buying 
every  thing  prepared  in  public,  no  doubt  makes  the 
Eastern  women  so  helpless,  and  so  little  domestic. 
One  sees  even  the  caiquejees  and  hamals  eating  their 
pilauf,  and  sipping  their  coffee  at  the  cafanees,  or 
smoking  on  comfortable  divans  inside,  or  on  benches 
by  the  door.  In  fact,  it  is  quite  "  club  life"  for  the 
men,  and  a  neglected,  idle  and  useless  one  for  the 
poor  women — at  least,  according  to  our  notions.  But 
I  must  say  adieu,  for  my  fingers  are  very  cold  and 
stiff,  and  there  is  no  such  thing  as  a  fireplace  in  the 
house.  Calliope  brought  me  a  pan  of  charcoal  just 
now,  but  it  made  my  head  ache,  and  I  was  obliged  to 
aend  it  away.  Here  the  natives  luxuriate  round  a 
mangak,  i,  e.  a  square  table  with  a  rail  round  the  bot- 


PERA.  127 

torn,  on  which  to  place  the  feet:  under  the  table  is 
placed  a  pan  of  charcoal,  and  spread  over  all,  a  thick 
Turkish  quilt.  Those  accustomed  to  the  fumes  of 
charcoal  think  a  man  gale  very  pleasant.  I  sat  by  one 
the  other  day,  and  soon  felt  very  ill  indeed. 

The  moment  a  storm  comes  on  here  now,  it  is 
winter  at  once.  Last  week  the  weather  was  sultry, 
and  a  slight  shock  of  earthquake  was  felt  at  Broussa, 
Pera,  and  even  Therapia.  The  wind  changed  sud 
denly  to  the  north;  and  I  now  look  despairingly  at 
our  little  stove,  which  lies  in  the  room  before  me, 
without  much  hope  of  ever  getting  it  put  up.  We 
bought  a  large  caique-load  of  wood  yesterday:  it  is 
frightfully  dear  since  the  wrar.  Nothing  seems  to  be 
restored  here;  everybody  cuts,  and  nobody  plants, 
about  Constantinople,  which  makes  the  hills  so  bare 
of  any  thing  but  cypress,  except  in  the  gardens  of  the 
Pasha.  Great  quantities  of  wood  are  brought  down 
from  the  shores  of  the  Black  Sea,  in  those  ancient- 
looking  Greek  feluccas  which  I  told  you  of.  All  our 
acquaintances  here  tell  us  that  we  shall  never  be  able 
to  stand  the  sharp  winter  winds  in  a  kiosk  with  thin 
wooden  walls ;  but  that  remains  to  be  seen.  Any 
thing  to  me  would  be  better  than  being  shut  up  in 
the  crowds,  dirt,  and  noise  of  Pera.  Besides  which 
the  rent  of  the  filthiest  houses  is  something  .enor 
mous.  All  the  cavalry  are  coming  down ;  an  "  Opera" 
is  opened,  and  they  say  it  will  be  very  gay.  We  do 
not  hear  much  about  the  war  now :  nothing  more  is 
to  be  done  until  next  year.  Those  in  the  Crimea  are 
preparing  to  pass  the  winter  as  comfortably  and  as 
warmly  as  they  can,  and  the  sick  and  wounded  are 
being  sent  home  as  expedition  sly  as  possible.  We 


128  IN   AND   AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

saw  the  Duke  of  Newcastle  the  other  day  at  Lord 
Stratford's;  he  is  very  earnestly  collecting  all  possible 
information  about  the  war  and  its  conduct. 

Pera  is  in  a  dreadful  state  of  confusion.  Kuffians 
and  outcasts  of  all  kinds  have  increased  a  hundred-, 
fold  since  the  war  began.  There  are  no  police  or 
guards  of  any  kind,  and  murders  and  all  sorts  of  out 
rages  are  perpetrated  in  the  crowded  streets  even  by 
day,  and  still  more  in  the  utter  darkness  and  con 
fusion  of  the  nights.  You  will  see  in  the  papers,  no 
doubt,  an  account  of  a  fight  which  took  place  a  day 
or  two  ago  between  some  French  and  Tunisian  sol 
diers,  in  which  one  or  two  were  killed  and  several 
wounded.  The  French  instantly  marched  two  regi 
ments  into  Stamboul,  without  waiting  to  ask  leave 
of  the  Turkish  government.  Every  one  thinks  them 
in  the  right ;  if  the  Turks  will  not  prevent  murder, 
the  Allies  must.  Soldiers,  missed  from  their  bar 
racks  at  night,  are  constantly  found  stabbed  in  the 
morning,  in  the  cemeteries  and  other  places  where 
they  have  been  surprised  and  waylaid.  Another 
French  officer  was  stabbed  on  the  Bridge  of  Boats 
yesterday,  and  it  is  feared  that  his  wound  will  prove 
mortal.  An  English  clergyman,  walking  quietly 
along,  was  also  wounded  in  the  arm,  but  it  appears 
that,  happily,  the  dagger  missed  its  aim. 

These  crimes  of  revenge,  it  is  said,  are  perpetrated 
by  the  Sciote  Greeks,  who,  since  the  massacre  of  Scio, 
of  course  entertain  great  feelings  of  hatred  and  ani 
mosity  toward  the  Turks,  and  are  indignant  at  the 
Allies  for  helping  them  in  their  present  struggle  with 
the  Russians.  The  band  of  Greek  "  sailors"  who  have 
committed  so  many  enormities,  still  roarn  at  large, 


STATE   OF   CRIME.  129 

and  scarcely  a  day  passes  without  a  new  outrage  being 
heard  of.  Yesterday  morning  the  shop  of  a  poor 
Turk  at  Galata  was  observed  to  be  shut  up  after  the 
usual  hour ;  it  had  been  ransacked  in  the  night,  and 
its  master  cruelly  murdered.  Mr.  Grace,  a  merchant 
here,  was  going  to  dine  at  Mysseri's  with  some  friends 
an  evening  or  two  ago ;  at  about  seven  he  entered  his 
counting-house,  where  he  had  made  arrangements  to 
dress,  his  country-house  being  at  a  distance.  The 
place  had  only  been  left  by  his  people  an  hour  before, 
yet,  in  broad  daylight,  he  found  every  thing  gone  that 
could  be  easily  carried  off,  without  the  slightest  alarm 
having  been  made,  or  the  slightest  possible  clue  given. 

Many  of  the  members  of  this  formidable  band  of 
Greeks  speak,  I  am  told,  English  and  French  perfectly 
well.  ISTo  effort  is  made  to  capture  them ;  indeed  it 
is  well  known  that  the  Turkish  (so-called)  guards, 
wherever  they  may  be,  are  so  miserably  paid  and  so 
completely  demoralized,  that  each  thief  shares  with 
them  a  certain  amount  of  his .  plunder,  consequently 
the  last  thing  the  robbers  think  of  is  being  taken  by 
the  "  authorities." 

I  always  hear  the  clatter  of  my  husband's  horse's 
hoofs  on  his  return  of  an  evening,  with  a  sensation  of 
relief,  especially  knowing  how  highly  incensed  several 
Turkish  dignitaries  are  with  both  himself  and  his  col 
league  for  their  endeavors  to  prevent  the  Loan  from 
falling  into  their  hands. 

Last  night  the  Muezzins  had  long  called  to  evening 
prayer  before  his  return,  and  I  began  to  feel  rather 
nervous  and  lonely,  watching  the  lengthening  shadows, 
and  then  the  lights  in  the  valley,  and  listening  to  un 
familiar  Greek,  as  Calliope  sat  whispering  with  the 
Armenian  woman  by  the  garden-door. 


LETTEE    XVI. 

WINTER  ON  THE  BOSPHORUS OUR  ARMENIAN  NEIGHBORS QUESTIONS  AND 

ANSWERS— TURKISH    REGULATION  OF  TIME THE    WINTER    THEATRE  IN 

THE  CRIMEA ZOUAVE  MODISTES. 

Orta-kioy,  November  28th,  1855. 

My  dear  Mr.  Hornby : 

Now  that  our  household  arrangements  are  com 
pleted — and  we  are  as  well  settled  for  the  winter  as  is 
possible  in  this  barbarous  country — I  shall  find  more 
time  to  write  you  letters,  which  you  will  read  by 
your  comfortable  fireside  in  England. 

After  the  beauty  of  scenery,  and  pleasantness  of 
out-door  life  here  in  summer-time  is  over,  the  ap 
proach  of  winter  scares  one ;  just  as  it  would  a 
merry  picnic  party,  all  clad  in  spring  garments,  on 
our  hills,  could  it  peep  in  unexpectedly  on  them. 
Certain  it  is,  that  we  never  truly  value  what  we  have 
until  it  is  lost  to  us.  In  a  comfortable  house,  in  a 
pretty  drawing-room  in  England,  one  sometimes  feels 
dull,  wearied  with  every-day  life,  and  longing  for  more 
stirring  incident ;  but  when  the  novelty  of  a  strange 
Eastern  country  is  once  over — when  your  head  is  tired, 
and  when  your  heart  wants  something  to  dwell  on 
with  pleasure — when  your  feet  are  cold  and  the  tips 
of  your  fingers  blue,  because  you  cannot  choose  be 
tween  being  made  sick  with  a  pan  of  charcoal,  or  be 
ing  half  suffocated  by  a  badly-contrived  stove — when 
you  cannot  move  in  the  streets  for  rivers  of  filth,  and 
the  beautiful  Bosphorus  is  too  rough  to  venture  out 
(130) 


WINTER   ON   THE   "BOSPHORUS.  131 

on  it  in  your  egg-shell  caique — when  you  can't  make 
up  your  mind  to  have  every  bone  shaken  out  of  its 
proper  place  in  a  teleki  (which  jolteth  and  crasheth 
cruelly  and  remorselessly  along  at  the  rate  of  two 
miles  an  hour,) — when  you  cast  a  glance  at  your 
three  books  on  the  table,  read  three  times  over,  and 
feel  with  despair  that  there  is  no  probability  of  getting 
others  for  many  a  long  day — when  there  blows  a  north 
wind  from  the  Black  Sea,  driving  wrecks  down  before 
your  windows,  and  flakes  of  snow  through  the  thin 
woodon  boards  of  your  kiosk — when  the  pilauf  is 
waiting  and  nobody  returns  to  dinner,  and  you  think 
of  nightly  murders  and  robberies  in  the  dark  streets 
of  Pera — then  you  look  back  with  a  perfect  rapture  of 
regret  on  blazing  fire-places,  safe  roads,  and  lighted 
streets,  protected  at  least  from  robbers.  When  you 
recollect  that  every  sound  we  hear  is  strange,  every 
custom  we  note  different — when  we  are  charmed 
to  find  that  even  a  foreign  tongue  like  Italian  is, 
though  imperfectly  understood — when  you  remember 
that  the  Turks  look  upon  our  religion  and  manners 
with  the  greatest  repugnance — you  will  not  be  sur 
prised  at  the  delight  with  which  we  receive  letters,  or 
the  slightest  token  of  a  home,  which  shines  to  us  out 
here  like  a  distant  Paradise. 

Seeing  the  frightful  political  and  social  state  of 
Eastern  countries  must  make  the  coldest  person  in 
the  world  feel  patriotic,  and  grateful  too,  for  the 
comforts  and  the  safety  which  we  so  carelessly  enjoy 
in  England.  The  human  race  has  certainly  a  great 
aptitude  for  taking  all  good  as  a  matter  of  course. 
The  old  Armenian  lady  next  door  often  pays  me  a 
visit,  and  I  fancy  that  our  stay  here  quite  cheers  her 


132  IN   AND   ABOUND   STAMBOUL. 

dull  and  melancholy  life.  A  widow  in  this  country 
is  pretty  certain  to  be  stripped  of  almost  every  thing, 
and  this  poor  lady  has  a  sad  story  to  tell  of  houses 
and  money  taken  from  herself  and  children  by  the 
Turks  under  various  pretenses.  One  of  her  dumb  sons 
was  sent  to  Italy  in  the  days  of  their  prosperity.  He 
is  exceedingly  intelligent,  writes  Italian  fluently,  and 
with  his  assistance  and  interpretation  my  conversa 
tions  with  his  mother  and  sisters  are  carried  on. 

I  often  wish  you  were  present  at  these  visits,  which 
are  really  very  amusing.  The  old  lady,  who  is  even 
now  charming,  and  who  must  have  been  of  the  most 
regular  and  serene  order  of  Armenian  beauty,  comes 
softly  into  my  little  drawing-room,  two  of  her  daugh 
ters  following,  and  "Antonio"  in  the  rear,  pencil  in 
hand,  as  interpreter.  I  rise,  and  we  all  bow,  touching 
our  lips  and  foreheads,  with  our  fingers,  after  the 
manner  of  Eastern  salutation.  Then  I  motion  them 
to  take  a  seat  on  the  divan,  which  the  mother  does, 
wrapping  her  large  fur  jacket  around  her,  as  she 
reclines  in  a  comfortable  corner.  The  young  girls 
will  not  presume  to  sit  with  us,  but  timidly  place 
themselves  on  the  edges  of  stiff,  uncomfortable  Ameri 
can  chairs.  Antonio,  after  many  persuasive  signs, 
consents  to  take  my  camp-stool  at  a  respectful  dis 
tance  ;  and  I,  from  my  little  table,  hand  him  a  slip  of 
paper,  on  which  is  written,  in  Italian,  that  I  am  very 
happy  to  see  them,  etc.,  etc.  Antonio  reads,  .bows,  and 
then  in  dumb-show  translates  this  with  the  utmost 
rapidity  to  his  mother,  who  as  rapidly  replies  to  him. 
In  another  second  I  am  told,  in  cramped  and  curious 
characters,  that  they  all  salute  me,  and  thank  me,  and 
hope  that  I  am  happy  and  contented,  etc.  After  this 


ARMENIAN   SOCIETY.  133 

we  gradually  fall  into  more  general  conversation,  and 
then  the  two  pencils  work  away  fast  and  furious.  A 
large  sheet  of  paper  with  the  questions  and  answers  is 
quite  a  curious  document — questions  about  England, 
and  London  particularly,  seeming  without  end.  How 
ever,  almost  every  thing  is  difficult  for  them  to  believe 
in ;  and  yet  I  see  that  they  trust  me  very  much.  Our 
excellent  government — our  schools  and  hospitals — our 
roads  and  paved  and  lighted  streets — our  shops  where 
the  real  price  is  asked,  and  you  are  not  obliged  to 
spend  the  whole  day  bargaining  for  a  shawl  or  gown — 
our  just  "  Cadis  "  (magistrates,)  who  would  really  refuse 
five  pounds  as  a  bribe  from  a  notorious  ruffian  to  let 
him  off,  or  two  pounds  for  obligingly  torturing  an 
innocent  person — are  things  almost  above  their  com 
prehension. 

However,  I  must  say  that  my  account  of  cabs  at 
sixpence  a  mile  was  the  bouquet  (as  they  call  the  last 
and  finest  firework)  of  wonders  which  I  showered 
upon  them  about  England.  Wonderingly  the  dark- 
eyed  girl  Dhudu  looks  at  her  mother,  who  raises  her 
hands  in  her  quiet  and  subdued  astonishment.  Oscu 
stops  trilling  her  colomboyo,  and  signs  to  her  brother, 
who  writes  for  her :  "  If  I  were  in  your  England,  I 
might  be  well  once  more."  Poor  Oscu,  I  am  afraid, 
is  in  a  decline.  I  never  beheld  any  human  being  so 
pale,  and  there  is  something  peculiarly  interesting 
about  her.  Her  features  are  perfectly  regular,  her 
eyes  large,  soft,  and  deeply  fringed  with  the  blackest 
lashes,  her  head  small  and  beautifully  shaped;  and 
her  hair  hanging  down  her  shoulders  in  the  marvel- 
ously  long  and  thick  plaits  which  one  occasionally 
sees  in  this  part  of  the  world.  She  has  been  ill  for 
12 


13-i  IN    AND   AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

three  or  four  years.  The  Armenian  doctor  cannot 
find  out  what  her  complaint  is ;  but,  to  ease  his  con 
science  by  trying  something,  he  frequently  bleeds  the 
poor  pale  thing  in  the  foot. 

Winter  has  regularly  set  in  here.  The  rain  is 
pouring  down  in  torrents,  and  a  rapid  stream  rushes 
from  the  hills  through  the  middle  of  the  steep  road 
by  the  side  of  our  house.  When  he  cannot  ride, 
Edmund,  in  high  boots  and  water-proof  poncho,  gets 
down  to  the  Per  a  steamer,  which  stops  at  the  little 
wooden  pier  of  the  village,  about  nine  in  the  morning. 
But  as  the  Turks  reckon  time,  and  set  their  clocks 
and  watches  by  the  sun,  of  course  the  time  of  its 
arrival  is  always  varying  more  or  less;  and,  if  not 
careful  in  your  calculations  from  morning  to  morning, 
you  either  have  to  wait,  or  have  the  pleasure  of  seeing 
the  dripping  standard  of  the  Crescent  and  Cross  rapidly 
disappearing  toward  Stamboul. 

We  hear  occasionally  from  the  Crimea,  and  are  ex 
cessively  diverted  by  stories  and  scenes  in  camp  life 
from  some  homeward-bound  or  "  on  leave"  acquaint 
ance.  The  military  theatre  there  has  been  a  source 
of  great  amusement,  although  the  heroine  was  some 
times  obliged  to  hurry  the  last  scene  a  little  in  order 
to  take  her  place  in  the  trenches,  and  occasionally 
showed  symptoms  of  nervousness  in  her  attempts  to 
keep  her  beard  out  of  sight.  I  am  told  that  the 
Zouaves  are  very  expert  at  making  up  petticoats,  caps, 
and  other  feminine  garments,  out  of  the  most  "  novel 
materials."  Of  course  a  sailor  danced  a  hornpipe  be 
tween  the  acts,  and  of  course  a  sailor  sang  "  Wapping 
Old  Stairs"  with  great  applause,  the  Duke  of  New 
castle  and  many  noted  personages  being  present.  The 


CAMP  THEATRICALS.  }35 

enemy's  shells  were  rather  troublesome  in  the  early 
days  of  these  performances,  but  altogether,  the  "  Koyal 
Theatre"  was  a  most  successful  affair,  and  is  still  talked 
of  with  delight.  I  believe  that  another  is  proposed 
for  this  winter;  but  I  shall  hear  all  Crimean  news 
when  Mr.  Evelyn  returns,  which  we  hope  will  be  soon, 
for  he  is  not  yet  strong  enough  to  brave  such  severe 
weather  "  up  in  the  front." 


LETTEK    XYII. 

DEATH   OF   MRS.  WILLOUGHBY  MOORE — FUNERAL  OF  A  FRENCH  SOLDIER — 

OUR      TURKISH      "ALLIES" — TURKISH      VENALITY PASHAS THEIR 

LUXURY    AND    DISHONESTY THE    CADI TURKISH    CHARACTER. 

Orta-kioy,  December  3d,  1855. 

My  dear  Mr.  Hornby : 

We  saw  Herbert  Siborn  yesterday,  quite  re 
covered,  I  am  glad  to  tell  you,  from  his  late  severe 
attack  of  fever.  His  men  and  horses  had  very  un 
comfortable  quarters  assigned  them  on  their  first  ar 
riving  at  Scutari ;  and  fever  was  the  consequence  of 
his  over-exertion  and  constant  exposure  to  the  sun. 
If  he  remains  at  Scutari,  we  hope  he  will  be  able  to 
spend  Christmas-day  with  us,  as  he  did  at  Weybridge 
last  year.  Little  did  we  imagine  then  that  we  should 
meet  together  here  in  the  course  of  a  few  months. 
We  can  plainly  see  Scutari  from  our  windows.  You 
will  be  sorry  to  hear  that  poor  Mrs.  Willoughby 
Moore  died  there  of  dysentery  last  week,  of  course 
most  deeply  regretted  by  those  whose  sufferings  she 
has  relieved,  and  for  whom  she  thought  and  labored 
night  and  day.  Kind  Lady  Stratford  was  with  her 
to  the  last,  doing  all  she  could.  Day  after  day,  in 
the  stormiest  weather,  we  have  seen  the  embassador's 
caique  beating  its  way  over  to  the  hospital  at  Scutari, 
as  it  did  also,  I  am  told,  before  Mrs.  Moore  went 
there,  and  when  Lady  Stratford  was  anxious  that  the 
sick  and  wounded  soldiers  should  be  better  cared  for. 
Poor  Mrs.  Moore  was  a  woman  of  many  sorrows. 

(136) 


OUR   TURKISH    ALLIES. 


137 


Her  husband,  Colonel  Moore,  perished  in  a  burning 
ship  rather  than  leave  his  men ;  she  had  lost  her  only 
child  and  was  left  quite  alone  in  the  world,  and  then 
felt  that  the  only  thing  which  could  make  her  endure 
life  cheerfully,  was  to  lessen  the  miseries  of  others. 
She  said  to  a  friend  of  mine  just  before  she  was  taken 
ill,  that  had  she  been  told  some  time  ago  that  she 
could  ever  have  felt  as  happy  as  she  was  at  the  hospital 
at  Scutari,  she  could  not  have  believed  it.  Her  suf 
ferings  during  her  illness  were  very  severe,  but  borne 
with  the  greatest  fortitude  and  resignation.  Many 
a  poor  fellow  whom  she  has  nursed  and  comforted, 
followed  her  to  the  grave.  It  was  quite  a  day  of 
mourning  at  Scutari. 

Talking  of  funerals,  Edmund  stopped  to  take  off  his 
cap  the  other  day,  and  to  stand  for  a  few  minutes  as  the 
only  mourner,  by  the  grave  of  a  poor  French  soldier, 
who  was  being  buried  at  a  roadside  cemetery  near 
Pera,  no  one  attending  but  a  priest,  who  hurried  off 
after  a  short  prayer,  leaving  the  two  Greek  bearers  to 
fling  the  poor  fellow  into  strange  earth,  far  from  his 
country  and  friends.  One  sees  many  sad  sights  here, 
as  well  as  novel  ones,  and  it  is  very  dispiriting  to  dis 
cover  what  a  people  these  really  are,  after  all  they  have 
cost  us.  As  to  gratitude,  they  detest  us  all  the  more 
for  the  humiliation  of  obligation.  It  is  all  very  fine  to 
talk  of  "  alliance"  in  the  newspapers  or  at  public  din 
ners,  champagne  in  hand,  and  with  the  Crescent  and 
Cross  twining  affectionately  round  the  English  stand 
ard  and  the  Lilies  of  France.  Depend  upon  it,  that 
only  from  the  most  dire  necessity  will  they  ever  tole 
rate  our  interference,  and  that  East  and  West  are  not 
so  far  divided,  as  are  our  tastes,  habits,  and  every 


IN    AND    AROUND    ttTAMBOUL. 

natural  tendency.  However,  there  is  a  great  deal  of  w  is- 
dom  and  refinement,  after  all,  in  their  quiet  lives,  and 
there  is  no  reason  in  the  world  why  we  should  wish 
them  to  imitate  us  except  in  our  morale.  A  Pasha 
dreams  away  life  very  pleasantly  in  his  white  marble 
palace,  and  shady  gardens,  and  gently  gliding  caique. 
These  are  better  than  dinner-parties  and  balls,  which 
some  people  call  "  civilization." 

It  is  the  means  of  getting  these  things — the  worse 
than  brigand  way  of  going  about  it — which  is  so 
frightful  here;  indeed,  it  is  difficult  to  express  the 
painful  impression  made  on  the  mind  in  this  beautiful 
country  on  seeing  its  wretched  state,  and  the  open  in 
famy  of  its  rulers.  It  is  notorious  that  most  of  the 
provincial  judges  live  on  the  banks  of  the  Bosphorus, 
expending  in  every  luxury  their  monthly  salaries  of 
so  many  piastres.  They  sell  or  let  their  places  to  the 
highest  bidder — often  to  some  ignorant  clerk  or  assist 
ant  in  their  own  office,  who  may  have  saved  a  little 
money,  and  who  extorts  a  living,  by  extra  imposts  or 
taxes  on  the  unhappy  people  over  whom  he  places 
himself  as  a  tyrant,  not  to  be  dislodged  until  he  can 
return,  heavily  laden  with  spoil,  to  Stamboul.  A  gen 
tleman  who  has  resided  for  many  years  in  different 
parts  of  Asia  Minor,  and  who  takes  the  greatest  inter 
est  in  the  fine  and  oppressed  people  of  the  country, 
tells  me  that  he  has  known  these  men  enter  a  village 
without  a  few  piastres  to  pay  for  the  hire  of  their  two 
or  three  baggage-mules,  and  at  the  end  of  three  or  four 
years,  leave  it  for  a  palace  at  Constantinople. 

A  short  time  ago  a  Pasha  here  murdered  his  wife 
under  circumstances  of  the  greatest  atrocity.  As  she 
happened  to  be  a  Pasha's  daughter,  he  was,  singular  to 


TURKISH    PASHAS.  139 

say,  tried  for  the  crime,  and  sentenced  to  the  bagnio, 
or  prison,  and  was  actually  sent  there.  However,  a 
sentence  of  punishment  to  a  Pasha  who  is  rich  is  but 
a  matter  of  form,  and  the  individual  to  whom  I  allude 
is  now  generally  supposed  to  be  enjoying  himself  in 
one  or  other  of  the  Greek  islands. 

It  is  seldom  now  that  a  Pasha  of  any  rank  loses  his 
head,  except  it  be  through  the  successful  intrigue  of 
some  reigning  favorite ;  and  then  he  is  only  murdered 
in  his  turn,  with  the  same  duplicity  which  he  had  prac 
ticed  before,  in  getting  rid  of  his  equals  in  power.  No 
Pasha  is  ever  punished  for  murdering  or  robbing  those 
in  his  power :  that  is  considered  as  a  matter  of  course. 
But  the  criminal  I  have  mentioned,  having  murdered 
his  wife  instead  of  one  of  his  slaves,  was  nominally 
sentenced  to  the  bagnio,  but  really  sent  to  "  rule"  and 
"  govern"  in  the  Greek  island  to  which  I  have  alluded 
— a  fashionable  way  here  of  reproving  Pashas  who  are 
not  careful  to  manage  their  little  affairs  with  more 
secrecy  and  address. 

Mehemet  Ali,  the  Capitan-Pasha,  was  originally  a 
shop-boy  at  one  of  the  bazaars ;  and  many  of  the 
most  "  famous"  pashas,  from  time  immemorial,  have 
risen  from  the  same  low  station,  or  have  been  bought 
in  the  slave-market.  Pleasing  their  masters,  has 
advanced  them  step  by  step.  Bearing  false-witness 
with  unblushing  effrontery  in  some  case  of  unjust 
seizure  or  frightful  oppression,  or  in  some  daring  in 
trigue  on  the  part  of  their  master  to  supplant  a 
favorite,  is  a  sure  and  certain  road  to  favor  and 
preferment.  What  we  call  education,  talent,  genius, 
is  not  marketable  stuff  here.  Fanaticism,  false-wit 
ness,  calm  cruelty,  and  above  all,  consummate  false- 


IN   AND   AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

hood  and  deceit,  under  a  smiling,  bland  exterior,  are 
the  things  requisite  to  make  a  Turkish  favorite ;  these 
essentials  to  success  are  leading  traits  in  the  Eastern 
character.  I  heard  a  gentleman  say,  the  other  even 
ing,  that  he  really  believed  there  were  two  honest 
men  in  Constantinople,  i.  e.,  Kihisli  Pasha,  the  Seras- 
kier,  or  Minister  of  War,  and  Halill  Pasha.  Yet  it 
is  said  that  Halill  Pasha  made  two  millions  of  money 
during  his  ministry,  which  was  not  a  long  one. 

It  is  scarcely  difficult,  when  you  see  more  closely 
into  the  state  of  things  here,  to  account  for  the  dis 
graceful  lives  of  the  pashas  and  ministers,  more  par 
ticularly  of  those  who  have  risen  from  the  lowest 
ranks  of  the  people.  Just  fancy  a  man  once  a  shoe 
maker,  afterward  a  police-officer,  made  an  admiral 
because  he  was  a  favorite ;  and  this  was  the  case 
with  the  late  Achmet  Papudgi,  who,  at  the  height  of 
his  power,  could  neither  read  nor  write. 

What  is  to  be  expected  of  men  who  have  been 
brought  up  in  poverty,  oppression,  and  ignorance, 
with  every  bad  example  before  their  eyes  in  the  rich 
men  close  to  their  own  miserable  hovels?  While 
poor  and  oppressed,  he  is  honest,  because  he  has  nei 
ther  power  to  steal  nor  to  do  harm ;  but  the  mo 
ment  the  slightest  temptation  presents  itself  to  lift 
him  out  of  his  misery,  all  those  negative,  so-called 
"  good  qualities"  of  the  Turk  vanish  into  thin  air. 
The  Cadi,  or  the  Pasha  who  had  noticed  him,  wants 
perhaps  a  false  witness  or  two  to  rob  a  poor  widow  or 
orphans  of  all  that  is  left  them,  or  to  strip  a  farmer 
or  merchant  of  his  entire  possessions.  The  hitherto 
"  honest"  (because  poor)  Turk  thinks  he  may  just  as 
well  relieve  his  wretched  poverty  by  a  thing  so  com- 


JUSTICE   IN   TURKEY.  1-il 

mon  as  perjury,  as  starve  on,  with  a  very  good  chance 
besides  of  being  bastinadoed  to  death  on  a  false 
charge,  falsely  maintained  too,  for  having  refused  the 
"  honorable"  commands  of  his  Pasha.  Once  get  a 
post  here,  however,  by  favoritism  and  an  "  obliging 
disposition,"  and  the  road  to  luxury,  the  Turk's  only 
ambition,  is  fast  and  easy  enough.  The  Minister  of 
Police,  for  instance,  receives  a  large  sum  for  subor 
dinates.  These  he  pays  so  miserably,  scarcely  giving 
them  enough  to  sustain  life,  that  they  are  well  known 
to  receive  so  many  piastres  a  day  from  each  thief ;  so 
that  nothing  is  ever  further  from  their  thoughts  than 
to  dislodge  any  criminals.  Of  course  there  are  a  few 
exceptions,  but  the  chief  occupants  of  the  prisons  here 
are  either  innocent  persons,  who  have  been  stripped 
of  all  they  possess,  or  those  who  have  fallen  under 
the  displeasure  of  some  Pasha  or  other. 

You  ask :  "  How  is  the  justice  of  this  country  ad 
ministered?"  My  dear  Mr.  Hornby,  I  believe  from 
all  the  questions  which  I  have  asked  of  those  who 
know  Turkey  well,  who  have  lived  in  it  for  years,  and 
who  are  honorable  and  truthful  men,  that  I  am  not 
in  the  slightest  degree  leading  you  toward  an  exag 
gerated  idea  of  the  miseries  of  this  unhappy  country, 
when  I  reply  simply  that  there  is  none.  Bribery  and 
false  testimony  reign  here  supreme.  The  luxury  of 
the  Pashas,  the  summer  palaces  (which  contrast  with 
the  hovels  in  which  they  toiled  for  daily  brown-bread 
but  a  few  years  before),  the  caparisoned  and  jeweled 
horses,  the  numerous  slaves  and  ruffian  retainers, 
are  supported  by  imposts  and  depredations  of  all 
kinds.  The  middle  class  of  people  have  almost  en 
tirely  disappeared.  The  "  Government"  have  pretty 


142  IN   AND   AKOUND   STAMBOUL. 

well  succeeded  in  killing  the  goose  for  its  golden 
eggs ;  there  will  soon  be  nothing  left  to  plunder.  I 
am  assured  by  a  merchant  here  that  twenty  years 
ago  there  were  many  beautiful  home  manufactures, 
constantly  worn  by  the  people,  which  have  now  quite 
disappeared.  When  a  Pasha  found  a  manufactory  in 
his  district,  which  was  flourishing,  he  so  taxed  and 
robbed  the  unhappy  proprietor,  who  was  already  sub 
ject  to  heavy  government  imposts,  that  he  was  soon 
obliged  to  fly  with  his  family,  or  to  starve  in  the 
ruins.  Or  else  a  false  charge  was  brought  against 
him,  and  he  died  of  the  bastinado  in  prison,  while  the 
Pasha  seized  his  house  and  goods  for  a  fine,  impossible 
for  him  to  pay.  So  most  of  the  lucrative  manufac 
tures  have  been  lost  to  the  country,  and  the  Govern 
ment,  being  prevented  by  treaties  with  foreign  powers 
from  increasing  to  any  great  extent  the  duties  on 
foreign  productions,  have  burdened  home  manufac 
tures  and  produce  with  very  heavy  duties,  that  effectu- 
tually  putting  a  finishing  stroke  to  native  enterprise 
or  industry. 

Other  and  happier  countries  are  thus  able  to  send 
their  goods  in  so  much  cheaper,  that  there  is  but  little 
commerce  here  of  any  real  advantage  to  the  body  of 
the  people.  In  fact  their  condition,  and  that  of  the 
Pashas,  is  perfectly  illustrated  by  the  beautiful  white 
marble  palace  and  a  more  wretched  hovel  than  Ire 
land  ever  produced.  However,  one  can  hardly  be 
sorry  to  see  that  the  country  is  so  drained  that  there 
is  but  little  left  to  steal ;  and,  come  what  may,  the 
poor  cannot  be  worse  off. 

I  must  not  forget  to  tell  you  that  the  Cadi,  or 
magistrate,  of  every  village  fixes  the  price  of  provi- 


VILLAGE   MAGISTRATES.  143 

sions.  He  is  himself  paid,  and  upon  being  told  his 
annual  stipend,  you  ask  how  he  lives.  The  butcher, 
baker,  etc.,  pay  him  so  many  piastres  a  week  to  keep 
the  price  of  meat  and  bread  above  what  it  should  be. 
A  man  who  ought  to  be  bastinadoed,  is  glad  to  give 
his  ten,  twenty,  or  thirty  piastres,  according  to  his 
means,  to  be  let  off;  and  a  man  falsely  accused  is 
equally  delighted  to  make  his  little  present  and  be  let 
off  with  a  whole  skin  too.  If  a  man  is  punished  here, 
you  may  be  pretty  well  sure  that  he  has  not  been  able 
to  give  enough  to  his  Cadi.  Can  you  imagine  any 
state  of  things  more  dreadful  than  all  this  ? 

Most  of  the  Turks  are  fine  open-countenanced  look 
ing  fellows.  Even  when  a  tradesman  tries  to  get  out 
of  you  more  than  double  the  price  of  the  article  in 
question,  your  pity  for  him  overcomes  any  other  feel 
ing.  He  is  obliged  to  get  what  he  can,  under  the 
great  pressure  constantly  bearing  him  down  and 
threatening  starvation. 

Sometimes  he  has  been  fortunate  enough  to  get  a 
little  money  hidden  away,  to  help,  him  in  his  business 
in  some  particular  way:  well,  a  minister  of  finance, 
to  rake  up  a  few  thousands  to  build  a  summer-palace, 
or  to  buy  Georgian  slaves  and  led  horses,  absolutely 
alters  the  value  of  the  paper  money  or  of  the  poor 
coins  saved  up,  and  so  the  people  lose  largely  on  fre 
quent  occasions. 

People  who  have  worn  out  their  sympathies  upon 
Hottentots  and  South-Sea  Islanders,  and  need  the 
excitement  of  Exeter  Hall  to  keep  their  benevolence 
up  to  the  mark — those  who  must  have  a  foreign 
country  and  people  to  help — had  better  come  here ; 
for  here  are  horrors  and  difficulties  enough. 


1-ii  IN   AND   AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

The  barbarities  of  mere  savages  do  not  impress  one 
at  all  in  comparison  with  the  profound  melancholy 
which  one  feels  in  this  magnificent  grave  of  truth  and 
freedom,  where  soul  looks  sorrowfully  and  dejectedly 
out  of  the  fine  dark  eyes  of  the  people,  who  have 
nothing  to  hope  for  in  their  wretchedness,  but  to  be 
come  as  guilty  as  the  men  whom  they  hated  and 
despised  in  the  honest  days  of  their  misery  and  labor. 
Many,  who  know  them  well,  believe  that  they  deeply 
feel  the  degradation  of  their  country,  and  would  like 
to  rise  up  among  nations  if  they  could.  Alas!  the 
poor  working-man  who  says  so,  believes  at  the  same 
time  that  it  is  hopeless ;  and  when  his  turn  for  tempta 
tion  comes,  falls  with  the  rest,  or  else  ends  his  life  in 
the  misery  in  which  it  began.  Fancy  a  well-inclined 
baker  or  carpenter  at  home  resisting  a  crime  which  he 
sees  every  day  may  lead  to  fortune,  and  sees  every 
day  committed  by  those  above  him,  as  a  matter  of 
course.  Fancy  a  man  in  office  being  able  to  refuse  a 
bribe,  or  to  avoid  taking  what  the  others  take  in  the 
next  palace.  He  remembers  what  he  suffered  in  the 
days  of  his  poverty,  and  grasps  what  he  can  while  the 
sun  shines,  which,  politically  speaking,  is  uncertain 
enough  here. 

Some  of  the  Pashas  are  of  old  date  of  course,  many 
professing  to  be  descended  from  the  Dere-Beys,  or 
"  Lords  of  the  Valley ;"  but  they  are,  generally  speak 
ing,  men  of  a  day,  and  risen  from  the  lowest  class,  as 
I  have  told  you.  It  is  time  indeed  that  the  civilized 
world  should  know  the  state  of  its  unhappy  neighbor, 
so  well  described  by  the  Emperor  Nicholas. 

I  heard  a  gentleman  say  the  other  day,  "the  English 
government  (although  of  course  it  knows  much)  has 


RETURN  OF  FINE   WEATHER.  145 

no  adequate  idea  of  the  disgraceful  state  of  this  country 
and  its  ministry ;  or  of  the  extraordinary  difficulty 
which  one  meets  with  in  doing  any  thing  with  the 
Turks."  The  fact  is  that  English  and  French  delicacy 
shrinks  from  openingly  saying  to  a  Turkish  minister, 
"  I  know  you  are  cheating."  JSTot  understanding  the 
delicacy,  however,  the  Turks  think  that  you  either  do 
not  see  through  their  knavery,  or  are  finessing  with 
them  after  their  own  fashion. 

Our  kiosk  is  halfway  up  the  hill  in  Orta-kioy ;  look- 
down  upon  the  miserable  village  in  the  valley,  and 
just  catching  a  glimpse  of  glittering  palaces  on  the 
edge  of  the  Bosphorus.  The  sun  has  burst  out  this 
morning  after  the  rain,  and  over  such  a  country! 
Stranger  as  I  am,  my  heart  could  but  bound,  as  many 
others  have  done,  on  looking  over  the  loveliest  hills 
and  valleys  that  fancy  ever  dreamed  of — so  beautiful 
still,  in  spite  of  all  the  evil  works  of  man !  trees  felled 
never  to  be  replanted — vineyards  rooted  up  never  to 
clothe  the  hillside  again — thousands  and  thousands  of 
acres  lying  uncultivated,  where  ought  to  be  waving 
corn.  Superstitious  veneration  for  the  dead  only 
plants  cypresses,  to  break  with  their  rich  clumps  the 
otherwise  monotonous  ranges  of  hills  on  either  side 
the  Bosphorus.  The  cypress-gardens  cannot  be 
•robbed;  fruit-trees  and  orchards  soon  would  be!  Here 
Byron's  poetry  is  truth,  splendidly  and  forcibly  told. 

"His  ill-got  treasure  soon  replaced: 
Would  question  whence  ?    Survey  the  waste, 
And  ask  the  squalid  peasant  how 
His  gains  repay  his  broiling  brow!" 

One  thing  surprises  me  very  much,  and  that  is,  the 


14(5  IN   AND   AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

exaggeration  pervading  most  of  the  books  I  have  seen 
about  Turkey.  To  read  them,  you  would  think  that 
the  Turks  were  idle,  but  happy — poor,  but  contented. 
How  different  is  the  real  state  of  things !  I  cannot 
help  wishing  that  Admiral  Slade's  book,  which  I  once 
mentioned  to  you,  were  as  well  known  as  some  vol 
umes  of  pretty-sounding  unreality.  It  seems  to  me  a 
positive  sin  to  give  to  the  civilized  world  so  false  a 
notion  of  the  social  and  political  state  of  a  people, 
whose  only  hope  now  rests,  though  unconsciously  to 
themselves,  upon  the  genius,  patience,  and  philan 
thropy  of  happier  nations  being  exerted  in  their 
favor. 

I  thought  the  other  day,  when  standing  under  the 
plane-trees  where  tradition  says  Godfrey  de  Bouillon 
once  encamped,  that  a  nobler  crusade  may  be  fought 
here  by  earnest  wish  and  good  example  of  Christian 
nations  now  admitted,  than  ever  was  fought  before 
against  infidels  in  the  olden  time  by  lance  and  spear. 
As  far  as  I  have  yet  seen,  however,  there  is  but  little 
of  this  spirit  afloat  among  the  French  and  English. 
After  they  have  once  amused  themselves  by  laughing 
at  the  peculiarities  and  the  miseries  of  the  Turks,  they 
are  very  well  inclined  either  to  let  them  alone,  or,  with 
mischievous  and  unprincipled  levity,  to  tempt  them  to 
drink  wine,  or  commit  some  act  of  English  folly,  which 
cannot  give  them  a  very  exalted  idea  of  either  our 
kindness  or  morality. 


LETTEE    XVIII. 

OUR      GREEK      COOK CALLIOPE'S      DESPONDENCY  — TROUBLES     IN     THE 

KITCHEN  —  APPROACH     OP    WINTER  —  THE     SULTAN'S     VISIT     TO     THE 
MOSQUE — A   MALTESE   DOG. 

Orta-kioy,  December  30th,  1855. 
My  dear  Mother : 

Our  Greek  cook  lias  arrived  from  Scutari,  and 
we  already  feel  like  mice  in  harvest-time,  after  our 
lengthened  starvation.  I  was  busy  in  the  garden  when 
he  came.  He  is  very  like  our  old  picture  of  "  The 
Banished  Lord,"  and  lifted  his  cap  with  a  lofty  mag 
nificence  of  manner,  which  I  humbly  admitted  to  my 
self  was  infinitely  more  dignified  than  the  look  of 
supreme  satisfaction  of  which  I  felt  conscious.  He  is 
very  tall  and  very  pale,  with  a  long  black  beard  and 
heavy  projecting  brows.  He  looks  famished  and  mis 
anthropic,  is  evidently  silent  and  sarcastic ;  and  Calli 
ope  is  broken-hearted.  She  has  been  so  dull,  so  dis 
appointed  at  not  finding  us  in  the  very  heart  of  Stam- 
boul,  or  of  Pera  at  least  (which  the  Smyrniotes  consider 
a  paradise  of  flirtation  and  gayety),  so  hopeless  of  a 
mistress  who  does  not  appreciate  sitting  dressed  out  at 
a  window,  like  the  Smyrniote  ladies,  and  has  no  notes 
or  bouquets  going  backward  and  forward — no,  not 
even  one — and  who  writes  and  reads  or  strolls  in  the 
garden  all  the  day  long,  that  she  had  looked  forward 
to  the  arrival  of  the  cook  with  great  joy.  And  now  to 
find  him  married,  misanthropic  and  surly,  dressed  in 
an  English  coat  with  sleeves  too  short  for  his  long  thin 

(147) 


14:8  IN    AND   AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

arms,  no  gay  embroidery,  not  even  a  sash — the  poor 
Greek  maiden's  ill-fortune  can  no  further  go.  It  is 
carnival  time  too,  the  streets  of  Pera  are  gay  with 
noisy  and  wandering  crowds,  and  Calliope's  suffering 
and  tristezza  are  almost  more  than  she  can  bear.  She 
sighs  dismally  at  this  last  blow,  and  wipes  her  im 
mense  black  eyes  with  a  bright  yellow  handkerchief 
after  handing  my  coffee.  "Vassili"  treats  her  with 
haughty  distance,  and  desires  her  to  show  him  the 
way  to  the  kitchen,  whence  he  instantly  dislodges  the 
Armenian  woman  with  profound  expressions  of  con 
tempt,  and  sets  about  arranging  the  charcoal  in  the 
stoves  with  the  air  of  a  master  of  his  art,  but  looking 
much  more  like  a  conspirator,  or  a  brigand  under 
difficulties,  than  the  domestic  being  which  we  are 
accustomed  to  consider  a  cook.  His  arrival  is  cer 
tainly  a  great  event  in  our  domestic  life  here.  He 
promised  the  "signer"  should  have  a  well-dressed 
dinner,  and  kept  his  word  admirably,  the  only  draw 
back  being  Calliope's  sighs  and  tearful  looks,  as  she 
attended  in  a  most  languishing  and  desponding  man 
ner.  But,  seriously  speaking,  this  is  very  annoying, 
especially  to  me  when  alone,  and  I  entreated  her 
yesterday  to  return  to  Symrna,  or  to  look  out  for 
another  situation  here,  as  I  could  not  undertake 
the  task  of  keeping  up  her  spirits  or  provide  her 
with  amusement.  As  the  weather  becomes  more 
wintry,  it  is  what  she  calls  duller  still;  the  Bospho- 
rus  is  very  rough  and  the  streets  very  dirty.  When 
we  sat  down  to  breakfast  this  morning,  a  distant 
mountain  on  the  Asiatic  side  was  glittering  with 
snow ;  the  effect  of  the  sunbeams  on  it  was  very  beau- 


VISIT   TO    THE    MOSQUE. 

tiful,  and  I  wished  myself  there  with  a  long   and  free 
walk  before  me. 

It  is  Friday,  and  I  have  been  down  to  the  mosque 
to  see  the  Sultan  go  to  mid-day  prayer.  He  came  from 
his  palace  at  Teheran ;  English,  French,  and  Turkish 
ships-of-war  saluting  him  with  a  perfect  roar  of  cannon 
as  his  beautiful  gilded  caiques  floated  by.  The  guard 
surrounded  the  mosque,  and  lined  the  narrow  street 
leading  to  it.  They  marched  from  Teheran,  with 
their  band  playing  alternately  European  airs  and 
marches,  and  wild  and  barbarous  Turkish  tunes,  in 
which  fifes  and  drums  predominate.  I  stood  on  the 
white  terrace  surrounding  the  mosque,  but  the  crowd 
of  guards  and  pashas  prevented  my  getting  a  good  view 
of  the  Sultan,  who  was  besides  pretty  well  hidden 
beneath  a  bright-red  silk  umbrella.  I  consoled  my 
self  by  admiring  his  magnificently  gilt  and  carved 
caiques  floating  gracefully  on  the  blue  water,  or 
moored  with  their  fine  picturesque  crews  by  the  white 
marble  steps  of  the  mosque.  Some  of  the  men  were 
standing  up  in  the  finest  possible  attitudes,  others  re 
clining  on  their  benches.  It  was  a  most  striking  and 
beautiful  picture  of  Eastern  life.  There  were  six  or 
seven  caiques,  some  with  golden  and  velvet -lined 
canopies,  and  one  or  two  with  the  effigy  of  a  white 
dove,  with  outspread  wings,  fluttering  on  an  almost  in 
visible  gilt  stem  in  the  prow,  which  had  a  charming 
effect,  rising  and  falling  on  the  waves.  The  Sultan  re 
mained  about  an  hour  in  the  mosque,  his  miserable- 
looking  soldiers  keeping  guard  around,  and  a  few 
pashas  and  officers  of  state  lounging  and  gossiping  on 
the  terrace.  I  was  watching  for  the  red  silk  umbrella, 
but  was  again  disappointed ;  for  when  the  fifes  and 
13* 


150  IN    AND    AROUND   STAMIiOUL. 

drums  announced  that  the  Sultan's  prayers  were  over, 
instead  of  approaching  the  principal  entrance  of  the 
mosque,  the  royal  caiques  were  turned  toward  the 
palace ;  and  I  was  told  that  the  Sultan  had  dismissed 
his  suite,  had  slipped  quietly  out  of  a  private  door,  and, 
with  two  or  three  attendants,  had  gone  to  pay  a  visit 
to  his  favorite  sister,  the  wife  of  Mehemet  All,  at  Ar- 
nautkoi.  So  we  strolled  homeward  through  a  crowd 
of  soldiers  mustering  for  their  return  to  the  palace, 
and  the  usual  motley  groups  of  villagers,  caiquejees 
and  fishermen,  beggars,  sherbet-sellers,  and  street- 
dogs. 

In  our  garden  we  found  an  Armenian  of  the  vil 
lage  awaiting  our  return.  He  had  a  beautiful  little 
Maltese  dog  to  sell,  which,  after  much  bargaining, 
industriously  interpreted  by  our  friend  Antonio,  be 
came  ours  for  the  sum  of  eighty  piastres.  It  is  a 
merry  little  creature,  and  I  have  named  him  Fuad. 
Edith  will  be  delighted  with  his  fun  and  frolic,  his 
snow-white  coat  and  bright  black  eyes.  The  poor 
Armenian  widow  Almira,  was  solacing  herself  with 
a  cigarette  and  an  ancient  friend  on  her  doorstep. 
She  seemed  pleased  at  my  delight  with  the  dog,  and 
going  indoors,  presently  returned  with  a  little  necklace 
of  blue  beads,  which  she  hung  round  his  neck,  and 
begged  earnestly  that  I  would  allow  him  to  wear  it 
as  a  charm  against  the  "  evil  eye ;"  for  she  would 
not  have  me  grieved  by  his  loss,  Antonio  earnestly 
wrote,  in  his  pretty  Eastern  Italian.  So,  with  a  dog, 
I  now  find  our  little  kiosk  beginning  to  feel  some 
thing  more  like  a  home ;  and  in  the  short  twilight 
before  dinner-time,  the  little  fellow  sits  with  me  be 
fore  the  open  door  of  our  stove,  in  which  the  wood 


DOMESTIC    MUSIC.  151 

burns  cheerily.  Instead  of  a  pan  of  water  on  the 
stove,  I  have  placed  a  small  kettle,  and  its  song  is 
the  sweetest  music  in  the  world  to  me,  as  I  scorch 
first  one  foot  and  then  the  other  in  my  frantic  en 
deavors  to  get  thoroughly  warm,  and  my  obstinate 
folly  in  persisting  in  a  dream  of  an  English  fireside. 


LETTER    XIX. 

CHKISTMAS-DAY     AT     CONSTANTINOPLE BEAUTY     OF    THE     BOSPHORUS 

CROWD  OF  VESSELS — MYSSERl'S    HOTEL — TALES    OF    THEV  CRIMEA — THE 

GREEK      CHRISTMAS  —  CHRISTMAS      DINNER      AT      THE      EMBASSY MISS 

NIGHTINGALE CHRISTMAS    GAMES. 

Orta-kioy,  January  5th,  1856. 

My  dear  Julia : 

Often  I  look  very  wistfully  over  the  Sea  of 
Marmora  on  returning  ships,  and  long  for  the  day 
when  we  may  be  sailing  over  it  again,  homeward- 
bound.  Sometimes  I  am  very  much  depressed,  think 
ing  of  the  distance  which  separates  me  from  Edith  and 
you  all ;  then  I  lash  up  my  courage  and  become  cheer 
ful  and  contented  and  grateful  again.  A  mail  is  due 
to-day,  and  I  may  have  letters  to-morrow  morning. 
1  know  you  will  be  thinking  much  of  us  by  your 
Christmas  logs.  The  weather  here  has  been  most 
bright  and  lovely :  soft  south  winds  and  uninterrupted 
sunshine  for  the  last  ten  days,  difficult  to  understand 
at  Christmas-time. 

We  went  into  Pera  on  Christmas-day,  Lord  and 
Lady  Stratford  kindly  taking  pity  on  our  loneliness, 
and  asking  us  to  dinner.  I  wish  you  could  have 
seen  the  Bosphorus  as  it  was  when  we  embarked 
in  our  caique  from  the  little  wooden  pier  of  Orta- 
kioy,  the  Sultan's  white  marble  mosque  shining  in  the 
morning  sun.  Numbers  of  Greeks  and  Turks  were 
basking  on  the  rickety  woodwork,  idly  watching  the 
turbaned  fishermen  in  their  gayly-painted  boats  pulling 
(152) 


CHRISTMAS-DAY.  153 

in  nets  quite  silvery  with  multitudes  of  glittering 
fish ;  so  does  the  Bosphorus  teem  with  every  variety 
of  finny  inhabitants.  Once  on  this  lovely  sea,  you 
forget  all  about  the  miseries  and  calamities  of  Turkish 
towns  and  villages,  and  can  only  think  it  the  most 
beautiful  place  in  the  world,  as  your  caique  darts 
along  the  waves,  and  you  mark  palaces  and  gardens 
and  distant  mountains. 

The  Bosphorus  on  Christmas-day  was  particularly 
beautiful  to  us,  unused  now  to  see  outward  signs  of 
a  Christian  people.  The  almost  innumerable  Euro 
pean  ships  were  gayly  dressed  with  flags  and  pennants, 
which  fluttered  in  the  brilliant  sunshine.  You  may 
imagine  the  effect  in  the  Sea  of  Marmora,  with 
Prince's  Islands  like  clouds  rising  from  the  sea,  and 
far  in  dreamy  distance,  the  Asian  mountains  glitter 
ing  with  ice  and  snow.  It  was  delightful  to  feel  the 
warmth  of  spring  in  your  caique,  and  to  look  upon 
shining  avalanches  above  the  clouds  themselves. 

The  beauty  of  this  place  on  the  sea,  is  so  great 
that,  even  while  looking  on  it,  you  do  not  believe  that 
it  is  real.  I  feel  this  every  time  I  row  near  "beauti 
ful  Stamboul,"  and  by  the  Maiden's  Tower,  which 
stands  built  on  a  rock  in  the  Sea  of  Marmora,  where 
you  see  stately  ships  coming  in  from  England  and 
France,  for  this  great  war. 

Nearer  to  Constantinople,  Pera,  and  Tophana,  is 
literally  a  forest  of  masts,  and  it  is  marvelous  that 
more  accidents  do  not  happen  than  one  hears  of,  for 
caiques  and  Maltese  boats  dart  by  hundreds  in  and 
out,  under  the  very  jaws  of  the  leviathans,  the  ships 
at  anchor  on  each  side  taking  up  a  very  deep  border 
of  the  Bosphorus.  Several  English  and  French  men- 


154  IN   AND  AROUND  STAMBOUL. 

of- war  on  Christmas  morning  were  taking  in  from 
caiques  famous  stocks  of  good  things  to  make  merry  ; 
oranges,  dried  fruits,  grapes,  and  Turkish  sweetmeats, 
whose  name  is  Legion.  We  passed  close  alongside  the 
"  Queen,"  who  always  gives  the  Sultan  such  a  hearty 
salute,  that  she  almost  sends  his  majesty's  gilded 
caiques  flying  in  the  air  instead  of  skimming  the 
water.  The  English  soldiers  and  sailors  often  give  a 
passing  countrywoman  a  tremendous  cheer,  recog 
nizing  a  bonnet  immediately  among  the  crowd  of 
vails.  I  got  a  first-rate  one,  with  caps  waving  a 
hearty  adieu,  from  the  crew  of  a  transport  slowly 
steaming  down  from  the  Crimea  on  her  way  to 
England.  I  so  rejoiced  with  the  poor  fellows,  after 
all  they  had  gone  through  in  this  terrible  war,  and 
would  have  given  something  to  have  been  going  home 
too  with  that  fine  and  jolly  company  on  Christmas  - 
day. 

It  is  very  pleasant  to  hear  the  sound  of  English 
now  and  then  from  a  ship  or  passer-by.  Being  in  a 
Turkish  village,  as  we  are,  is  a  very  different  thing 
to  being  at  Mysseri's  Hotel  at  Pera,  which,  since  the 
war  began,  has  been  crowded  with  English  officers. 
There,  one  hardly  seems  in  a  strange  country.  Mrs. 
Mysseri  is  extremely  fond  of  flowers,  and  always  has 
some  very  beautiful  ones  on  her  terrace  and  in  the 
deep  windows  of  the  staircase  :  they  look  so  pretty 
and  refreshing,  on  coming  in  from  the  hot  and  dusty 
streets.  On  Christmas-day  all  her  orange  and  lemon 
trees  adorned  the  salaamlik  ;  the  country-people  had 
brought  her  in  immense  branches  of  myrtle,  which 
abounds  here  ;  ("Know  ye  the  land  of  the  cypress  and 
myrtle  ?")  and  the  place  wore  quite  a  festive  air,  ex- 


TALES    OF   THE   CRIMEA.  155 

cept  that  there  was  no  holly,  and  that  told  more  than 
any  thing  else  that  one  was  not  in  old  England,  which 
every  one  adores  when  away  from,  and  grumbles 
at  when  in  it. 

I  am  quite  at  home  at  Mysseri's  now,  and  am  ac 
quainted  with  several  people  staying  there.  Want 
of  occupation  is  the  principal  complaint,  and  I  enjoy 
Mrs.  Mysseri's  kind  permission  to  arrange  and  water 
her  flowers  when  we  are  staying  there.  The  poor 
officers  get  terribly  "  bored,"  having  no  amusement 
of  any  kind  but  standing  at  the  door,  watching  the 
curiously  varied  stream  of  human  beings  perpetually 
pouring  through  the  narrow  street,  varied  with  occa 
sional  strings  of  donkeys,  and  now  and  then  of  stately 
stepping  camels.  Many  have  been  "  knocking  about" 
since  the  war  began,  and  are  of  course  more  particu 
larly  longing  to  see  their  families  and  friends  just  now. 
It  was  useless  to  wish  them  a  merry  Christmas  ;  one 
could  only  hope  for  a  happier  one  next  year,  if  the 
war  is  ended.  They  certainly  bear  every  thing  very 
cheerfully  and  well,  including  hardship  and  danger  in 
the  camp  before  Sebastopol,  and  illness,  ennui,  and  a 
stab  now  and  then  from  their  gracious  allies  here.  A 
young  officer  showed  me  this  morning  a  tin  case,  which 
he  said  with  glee  contained  a  plum  pudding,  made  by 
his  sisters  in  England.  He  was  going  to  keep  it  for 
the  Crimea  when  his  leave  at  Constantinople  should 
have  expired.  He  told  me  that  hundreds  of  puddings 
had  arrived,  and  that  last  year  it  was  the  same,  many 
officers  "  sporting"  slices  of  it  fried,  up  to  the  time  of 
the  taking  of  Sebastopol.  However,  the  Crimean  ants 
are  sad  lovers  of  good  things,  and  seem  determined 
to  exercise  their  utmost  ingenuity  to  obtain  a  con- 


156  IN   AND   AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

queror's  share  of  what  the  fortunes  of  war  have  sent 
to  their  barren  coasts.  Lieutenant  Coote,  a  brave 
young  man  and  a  great  friend  of  ours,  amused  rne 
very  much  with  a  description  of  the  war  which  he 
carried  on  against  them.  They  certainly  troubled 
him  even  more  than  Russian  shot  and  shell,  for  he 
said  that,  however  hungry,  he  could  never  make  up 
his  mind  to  swallow  a  dozen  or  so  at  a  mouthful. 
His  mother  sent  him  out  potted  meats,  marmalade, 
and  other  things,  which  he  carefully  barricaded  in 
his  tent.  The  moment  he  returned  again  from  the 
trenches,  he  ran  with  a  bosom  friend  to  his  stores. 
No  matter  how  ingeniously  he  had  covered  -them  up, 
the  enemy  were  certain  to  be  in  possession  and  full 
regale.  At  last  they  got,  for  a  great  sum,  a  large 
earthenware  jar,  which  was  constantly  kept  in  a  tub 
half-full  of  water,  and  this  soon  became  the  fashionable 
pantry  of  the  camp,  and  completely  defeated  the  ants. 
Although  under  a  deep  snow,  they  are  very  snug  in 
the  Crimea  just  now,  having  plenty  of  excellent  pro 
visions,  plenty  of  clothing,  and  good  wooden  huts. 
The  Russians  still  keep  up  firing  from  the  north  side. 
I  saw  a  traveler  the  other  day  who  had  just  returned 
from  Sebastopol.  He  says  that  it  is  impossible  to 
walk  about  "  pleasantly,"  as  shells  are  frequently 
thrown  in.  One  day  he  stopped  with  a  friend  to  have 
the  treat  of  a  glass  of  ale,  an  adventurous  Englishman 
having  set  up  a  small  tap  in  one  of  the  deserted  houses. 
They  were  just  paying,  when  a  shot  dashed  in  at  the 
already  dilapidated  window,  shattered  what  was  left 
of  the  frame  to  pieces,  split  the  rickety  table  into 
fragments,  broke  all  the  glasses,  and  so  frightened 
mine  host,  that  he  declared,  with  tears  in  his  eyes, 


GREEK   CHRISTMAS-DAY.  157 

when  the  first  fright  was  over,  that  he  must  give  up 
the  place,  "  it  was  so  very  worriting  to  be  fired  at  like 
that  every  now  and  then." 

I  have  asked  Mr.  Evelyn  to  give  me  an  account  of 
how  they  spend  Christmas  in  the  Crimea,  and  will 
send  you  his  reply,  as  no  doubt  it  will  be  interesting. 
When  we  could  no  longer  see  the  gay  flags  and  pen 
nants  flying  from  the  ships  on  the  Bosphorus,  Pera 
gave  no  signs  to  English  eyes  of  a  holiday.  There 
was  of  course  the  same  crowd  of  noisy  Greeks,  the 
same  strange  mixture  of  many  nations.  French  and 
English  soldiers  were  strolling  about,  evidently  mak 
ing  a  melancholy  attempt  to  enjoy  themselves. 

The  Greek  Christmas-day  is  on  our  Twelfth  Night 
this  year.  Mrs.  Mysseri  was  able  to  give  us  a  comfort 
able  room  with  a  lovely  view,  and  we  had  plenty  of 
visitors  all  the  morning.  The  heat  and  closeness  was 
so  great,  that  every  one  seemed  more  or  less  ill  and 
depressed;  many,  too,  home-sick.  Edmund  and  I 
congratulate  ourselves  on  being  in  fresh  air,  every 
time  we  return  from  Pera  to  Orta-kioy ;  the  noise  and 
dirt  of  Pera  are  so  great,  and  want  of  exercise  so  try 
ing  to  health  and  spirits.  But  it  is  of  no  use  minding 
mud  and  bustling  crowds  and  dead  rats;  so  Lady 
Poulett,  who  has  just  returned  from  the  Crimea,  and 
who  bears  every  thing  in  the  same  brave  and  cheerful 
spirit,  Captain  Keppel,  and  I,  managed  to  get  to  the 
great  cemetery  for  a  walk  among  the  solemn  cypress- 
trees  and  countless  groups  of  turban-stones.  Captain 
Keppel  is  just  appointed  to  the  command  of  a  squad 
ron  of  gun-boats,  and  everybody  who  knows  him  says 
that  this  a  cheerful  instance  of  "  the  right  man  in  the 
right  place."  We  looked  in  at  Signor  Preziosa's  on 
14 


158  IN"   AND   ABOUND   STAMBOUL. 

our  way  home,  and  admired  his  beautiful  sketches  of 
this  place,  groups  in  the  bazaars,  and  fine  old  foun 
tains.  Captain  Keppel  bought  two  vailed  ladies  to 
grace  his  cabin,  and  I  took  a  fancy  to  a  wild  and  fero 
cious-looking  dervish. 

But  I  must  tell  you  about  the  Christmas  dinner  at 
the  Embassy,  for  every  thing  is  so  different  here  to 
any  other  part  of  the  world.  My  Greek  maid  has 
run  away,  so  Lady  Poulett  most  kindly  allows  her 
English  one  to  dress  me,  which  is  a  great  relief  to  my 
mind,  coming  from  such  savage  parts  as  I  do.  We 
go  down-stairs  together.  Two  ridiculously  painted 
and  gilt  sedan-chairs  are  in  the  hall,  with  the  Turkish 
bearers  for  each.  Mrs.  Mysseri  comes  out  of  her 
room  to  "  see  us  dressed,"  and  loving  flowers  so  much 
herself,  has  kindly  made  up  for  Lady  Poulett  and 
myself  a  lovely  bunch  of  myrtle  and  roses,  which  she 
declares  is  all  that  is  wanting  to  strike  all  beholders. 
Our  gentlemen  in  waiting,  dressed  for  the  dinner 
party  at  the  palace  likewise,  and  with  Crimean  orders 
on  their  breasts,  (don't  envy  us  too  much,  young 
ladies, — we  are  the  only  creatures  of  womankind 
amongst  hundreds  of  our  countrymen),  advance  to 
put  on  our  wrappings.  We  step  into  our  chairs, 
and  feel  ourselves  picked  up  as  if  we  were  linnets, 
by  the  marvelous  strength  of  our  bearers.  Three 
Turks,  carrying  lanterns,  each  containing  two  or  three 
candles,  escort  our  party.  Once  outside  the  doors  of 
your  hotel  at  night,  you  begin  to  feel  nervous.  The 
streets  are  now  almost  deserted,  except  by  the  party 
going  to  the  Embassy.  The  houses  are  closely  shut 
up,  and  only  gleam  out  in  their  picturesque  irregu 
larity  by  the  fitful  glare  of  the  lamps  as  the  Turks 


VISIT  TO   THE   EMBASSY.  159 

pick  their  way  over  the  great  loose  stones  of  the 
"pavement,"  and  heaps  of  filth  here  and  there.  Every 
now  and  then  a  dark  figure  steals  by,  wrapped  in  a 
large  cloak,  and  you  feel,  what  is  so  strange  to  the 
English,  that  murder  lurks  in  every  dark  place. 
Once  I  nearly  upset  my  chair  by  suddenly  trying  to 
look  out ;  for  Edmund  had  disappeared  out  of  the 
light  of  the  lanterns.  He  had  only  joined  a  party  of 
officers,  and  they  soon  came  up,  laughing  and  talking. 
The  street  dogs  eyed  us  suspiciously  from  their  lairs 
in  the  dark  corners  of  the  streets.  Some  of  them  look 
like  hyenas  lurking  about  at  night.  A  guard  of 
Turkish  soldiers  was  drawn  up  in  the  narrow  street 
leading  to  the  palace,  and  motley  groups  were  assem 
bled  by  the  gates  to  see  the  company  arrive  ;  Greeks 
Turks,  and  groups  of  mounted  officers  in  fall  dress 
look  so  well  by  torchlight, — very  different,  certainly, 
to  the  black  coats  and  carriages  of  a  London  dinner 
party. 

The  palace  looked  very  beautiful — its  spacious  white 
stone  corridors,  richly  and  warmly  carpeted,  and  an 
air  of  perfectness  very  striking  here.  Beautiful  orange 
and  lemon  trees,  bearing  both  flowers  and  fruit; 
bright,  shining  myrtles,  and  gorgeous  scarlet  cacti, 
had  a  charming  effect.  There  were  a  few  branches 
of  Turkish  holly,  which  is  small  and  stunted,  but  not 
a  single  berry  of  the  cherished  scarlet.  Misseltoe  is 
found  on  many  of  the  old  oak-trees  in  the  Crimea, 
but  I  have  never  seen  any  here.  The  ladies  at  the 
Embassy  have  great  taste  in  the  arrangement  of 
flowers  and  shrubs,  and  the  drawing-rooms  seem  so 
beautiful  to  me  after  our  savage  little  kiosk,  that  I 
feel  like  an  Esquimax  suddenly  imported  into  Bel- 


160  IN    AND   AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

gravia,  and,  seated  on  a  low  sofa  canopied  with  orange 
and  myrtle,  delight  mine  eye  exceedingly.  I  never 
thought  to  have  looked  with  so  much  interest  at  a 
blazing  fire-place  as  I  do  now,  not  having  seen  one  for 
months. 

Lady  Stratford  was  not  in  the  drawing-room  when 
we  arrived.  We  found  General  and  Mrs.  Mansfield, 
Lady  Frederick  Fitzroy,  Sir  Houston  Stewart,  and 
several  officers,  naval  and  military.  The  embassador 
most  cordially  wished  everybody  a  happy  Christmas. 
His  lordship  always  wins  my  heart  by  asking  the 
latest  news  of  Edie,  and  he  can  talk  so  delightfully  on 
light  matters  when  he  has  time,  which  is  not  very  often. 
Like  poor  broken-hearted  Lord  Raglan,  he  has  deeply 
and  painfully  felt  the  attack  made  on  him  about  Kars. 
He  had  a  pleasant  chat  about  Orta-kioy,  its  ancient 
name,  the  curious  fraternity  of  dervishes  now  living 
there;  and  about  a  Eussian  princess  whom  Lord 
Stratford  had  once  vistted  in  a  fine  old  Armenian 
house  just  above  our  kiosk — a  kind  of  good  fairy,  of 
whom  the  Greeks  of  the  village  still  speak  with  rever 
ence,  she  being  of  their  own  Church,  and  very  chari 
table.  But  by-and-by  the  drawing-room  doors  are 
thrown  open,  and  the  embassadress  enters,  smiling  a 
kind  and  gracious  welcome.  Behind  her  are  her 
daughters ;  by  her  side,  a  tall,  fashionable,  haughty 
beauty.  I  could  not  help  thinking  how  beautiful  she 
looked ;  but  the  next  instant  my  eyes  wandered  from 
her  cold  unamiable  face  to  a  lady  modestly  standing 
on  the  other  side  of  Lady  Stratford.  At  first  I  thought 
she  was  a  nun,  from  her  black  dress  and  close  cap. 
She  was  not  introduced,  and  yet  Edmund  and  I  looked 
at  each  other  at  the  same  moment  to  whisper,  "It  is 


FLORENCE   NIGHTINGALE.  161 

Miss  Nightingale !"  Yes,  it  was  Florence  Nightingale, 
greatest  of  all  now  in  name  and  honor  among  women. 
I  assure  you  that  I  was  glad  not  to  be  obliged  to  speak 
just  then,  for  I  felt  quite  dumb  as  I  looked  at  her 
wasted  figure  and  the  short  brown  hair  combed  over 
her  forehead  like  a  child's,  cut  so  when  her  life  was 
despaired  of  from  fever  but  a  short  time  ago.  Her 
dress,  as  I  have  said,  was  black,  made  high  to  the 
throat,  its  only  ornament  being  a  large  enameled 
brooch,  which  looked  to  me  like  the  colors  of  a  regi 
ment  surmounted  with  a  wreath  of  laurel,  no  doubt 
some  grateful  offering  from  our  men.  To  hide  the 
close  white  cap  a  little,  she  had  tied  a  white  crape 
handkerchief  over  the  back  of  it,  only  allowing  the 
border  of  lace  to  be  seen ;  and  this  gave  the  nunlike 
appearance  which  first  struck  me  on  her  entering  the 
room,  otherwise  Miss  Nightingale  is  by  no  means 
striking  in  appearance.  Only  her  plain  black  dress, 
quiet  manner,  and  great  renown,  told  so  powerfully 
altogether  in  that  assembly  of  brilliant  dress  and  uni 
forms.  She  is  very  slight,  rather  above  the  middle 
height ;  her  face  is  long  and  thin,  but  this  may  be 
from  recent  illness  and  great  fatigue.  She  has  a  very 
prominent  nose,  slightly  Eoman ;  and  small  dark  eyes, 
kind,  yet  penetrating ;  but  her  face  does  not  give  you 
at  all  the  idea  of  great  talent.  She  looks  a  quiet, 
persevering,  orderly,  ladylike  women.  I  have  done 
my  best  to  give  you  a  true  pen-and-ink  portrait  of  this 
celebrated  lady.  I  suppose  there  is  a  hum  all  over  the 
world  world  of  "  What  is  she  like  ?" 

Through  the  beautiful  flower-vases  on  the  table,  I 
noticed  another  pale  and  care-worn  face ;  but  this  was 
a  gentleman.  I  asked  my  neighbor  who  he  was,  and 


162  IN  AND  AROUND  STAMBOUL. 

no  longer  wondered  at  his  haggard  looks,  when  I 
heard  that  he  was  Dr.  Sandwith,  just  escaped  from  all 
the  horrors  of  starvation  at  Kars.  I  was  sorry  not  to 
be  able  to  hear  what  he  was  saying ;  but  Sir  Houston 
Stewart's  rosy,  seaman's  face,  merry  chat,  and  truly 
Christmas  "Ha,  ha,  ha!"  made  it  impossible  to  any  one 
near  him  not  to  smile  and  feel  very  merry  too.  At 
Christmas-time  mirth  is  particularly  infectious. 

But  after  dinner  there  was  great  fun ;  for  all  the 
midshipmen  of  the  different  men-of-war  lying  here 
were  invited ;  such  fine,  brave-looking  little  fellows ! 
My  heart  always  warms  to  a  middy.  Lady  Stratford 
received  them  most  kindly  as  they  came  marching  in, 
looking  so  fresh  and  nice  in  their  little,  old-fashioned 
blue  coatees  with  gilt  buttons.  I  think  they  thought 
it  rather  formidable  at  first,  but  Lord  Stratford  pro 
posed  a  "  round  game  "  for  them,  and  they  soon  be 
came  as  jolly  as  possible,  brightening  up  with  the 
Christmas  fun  and  laughter.  We  all  played  like  so 
many  children ;  the  admiral,  the  life  and  spirit  of 
every  game. 

Many  officers  now  arrived,  and  the  new  ball-room, 
which  is  a  very  beautiful  one,  was  thrown  open. 
Several  Christmas  games  were  played,  in  which  almost 
every  one  joined.  The  middies  were  wild  with  de 
light,  and  afforded  the  greatest  amusement,  now  that 
they  felt  quite  at  their  ease.  Their  feeling  of  the  ex 
cessive  fun  of  playing  with  the  admiral  was  intense. 
In  one  of  the  games  Sir  Houston  ran  round  the  wide 
circle,  ball  in  hand,  and  crying,  "  Earth,  air,  water !" 
The  game  is,  you  know,  that  the  person,  into  whose 
lap  the  ball  is  thrown,  must  name  some  object,  or  some 
animal,  from  the  last-named  element,  which  is  some- 


CHKISTMAS   FKOLICS.  163 

times  difficult  in  a  second,  for  the  ball  comes  to  you 
when  you  least  expect  it,  and  the  words  are  very  ra 
pidly  spoken. 

" Earth!"  cries  the  admiral,  to  a  merry-looking, 
fair-haired  middy. 

"An  ass !"  promptly  replies  the  little  fellow. 

"  An  ass !  So  you  mean  to  call  me  an  ass,  do  you, 
sir?"  said  the  admiral,  pretending  to  frown.  I  really 
thought  the  little  boys  would  have  expired  with  laugh 
ing  at  the  bare  idea ! 

Miss  Nightingale  was  still  very  weak,  and  could  not 
join  in  the  games,  but  she  sat  on  a  sofa,  and  looked 
on,  laughing  until  the  tears  came  into  her  eyes.  There 
was  afterward  a  dark  room,  with  a  gigantic  dish  of 
snap-dragon,  and  we  all  looked  dreadfully  pale  in  the 
blue  light.  The  red  coats  of  the  officers  turned  orange- 
color,  their  stars  and  orders  of  the  most  unearthly 
hue ;  and  each  wondered  at  the  other's  spectral  looks, 
except  the  middies,  who  showed  a  marvelous  capacity 
for  eating  fiery  plums. 

I  thought  as  I  looked  round,  what  a  curious  group 
it  was  playing  children,  even  the  children  having 
acted  their  part  in  this  fearful  war-struggle.  Many  a 
scar  still  remained  on  the  cheek  and  brows  of  officers 
now  scrambling  for  snap-dragon;  the  poor  Doctor 
from  Kars  looked  like  the  spirit  of  a  famished  man ; 
Miss  Nightingale's  nunlike  head-dress,  still  more 
quaint  in  that  strange,  blue  light.  I  said  to  her  "How 
delighted  the  mothers  of  these  boys  would  be  to  see 
them  now!"  She  replied,  "Ah!  the  poor  mothers !" 
How  the  middies  enjoyed  the  good  things  and  deli 
cious  sweetmeats  afterward  handed  around!  Lady 
Stratford  was  so  kind,  and  took  immense  pains 


164:  IN   AND   AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

that  they  should  pass  a  happy  Christmas  evening. 
Edmund  had  charge  of  them  all  to  their  hotel,  and  we 
were  a  merry,  torch-light  party,  scrambling  through 
the  quaint  and  narrow  streets.  It  seemed  so  odd  to 
see  such  little  fellows  as  these  going  to  an  hotel  alone 
in  a  country  like  this.  A  son  of  Sir  Charles  Wood 
particularly  struck  me,  as  a  handsome,  clever  boy. 
Sir  Houston  Stewart  told  me  that  most  of  them  had 
been  under  fire,  and  had  behaved  gallantly. 

So  much  for  our  Christmas-day  in  1855.     Perhaps 
we  may  never  have  so  remarkable  a  one  again. 


LETTEE    XX. 

GREEK  SERVANTS — CALLIOPE'S  SCHEME — KNEELING  TO  THE  SAINTS — 
LYING  PROPENSITIES DOMESTIC  LIFE GREEK  AND  TURKISH  CHAR 
ACTER. 

Orta-kioy,  January  lOtli,  1856. 
My  dear  Julia : 

I  am  very  quiet  here  now ;  much  more  com 
fortable  since  Calliope  ran  away,  although  her  tears 
and  her  everlasting  yellow  pocket-handkerchief  haunt 
me  still.  She  was  a  thorough  Greek,  and  could  not 
help  intriguing  over  a  potato.  I  believe  that  the  quiet 
was  dreadful  to  her ;  even  some  one  to  quarrel  with 
would  have  been  a  relief.  But  I  must  tell  you  all 
about  her  "  flitting,"  and  how  thoroughly  I  was  taken 
in.  However,  the  Greeks  certainly  tell  lies  with  such 
a  grace  that  I  do  not  feel  the  least  abashed  at  my  want 
of  penetration.  It  is  quite  different  from  the  bold  and 
vulgar  untruth  of  the  same  class  in  England,  it  is  di 
plomatic  and  artistic :  as  actors,  I  should  think  they 
would  make  their  fortunes. 

Well,  Fuad  and  I  were  lounging  on  the  divan  one 
fine  morning.  We  had  been  watching  Edmund  as  he 
rode  away,  and  an  Armenian  baby  at  the  opposite  lat 
tice,  and  a  "  row"  among  the  street  dogs,  and  a  vailed 
Armenian  lady  riding  down  the  hill  astride  on  a  milk- 
white  mule,  with  an  attendant  on  each  side  of  her,  and 
our  neighbor's  bread  going  to  be  baked  in  the  long 
wooden  troughs  (we  are  getting  quite  Paul  Prys,  Fuad 
and  I,  at  our  windows),  and  an  old  Turk  selling  sweets 

(165) 


166  IN   AND   AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

to  the  fat  muezzin  of  our  mosque,  who  carries  his  little 
child  in  his  arms,  munching  a  green  apple  or  a  cu 
cumber.  Every  thing  here  is  new  to  me,  you  know, 
and  Fuad  likes  it  too — dear,  merry  little  beast ! — and 
as  there  are  only  two  of  us,  we  can  play  the  fool  to 
gether  without  offending  any  one.  So  I  watch  all  that 
is  going  on,  and  he  looks  at  the  wild  cats  prowling 
about  our  garden,  tell  Edie,  and  gets  so  angry  that  I 
have  to  pull  him  back  by  his  white  curls,  for  fear 
he  should  tumble  out,  in  the  intensity  of  his  wrath. 

Well,  I  am  a  sad  rambler !  Calliope  came  rushing 
up-stairs  wringing  her  hands.  I  boxed  Fuad's  ears  to 
make  him  quiet,  and  said  in  Italian,  "  What's  the 
matter  now  ?"  "  Oh !  my  mother,  my  poor  mother  is 
dying,  and  has  sent  for  us  all  to  say  good-by  (prendere 
Vultimo  addio) ;  what  shall  I  do  ?"  The  girl  was  really 
pale,  and  trembled  visibly. 

"  Do  ?"  I  said ;  "  go  at  once,  of  course." 

"  But  how  can  I  leave  you  f  how  can  I  leave  the 
signora?"  turning  to  Vassili,  who,  looking  as  grim 
as  usual,  was  putting  wood  into  the  stove.  Vassili 
looked  a  degree  coarser,  and  made  no  reply  beyond 
a  Greek  shrug  of  the  shoulders.  I  said :  "  Oh,  never 
mind  me ;  go  directly." 

So  Calliope  rushed  to  the  fountain  in  the  little  hall 
and  began  sluicing  her  face  with  water,  then  again 
ran  up  to  me,  arranging  her  long  hair-plaits,  crying 
and  uttering  vehement  lamentations.  One  of  her 
speeches  was :  "  Ah,  my  poor  mother,  she  said  when 
we  parted,  '  Adieu,  my  Calliope !  I  feel  growing  so 
weak,  that  I  do  not  believe  we  shall  ever  meet 
again.'  "  I  said :  "  Don't  cry  any  more ;  but  eat  some 
thing  before  you  go,  or  you  will  be  ill." 


CALLIOPE'S  SCHEME.  167 

I  asked  several  questions  about  the  mother,  of  Cal 
liope's  sailor  brother,  a  dark-bearded,  corsair-looking 
young  gentleman,  who  was  waiting  in  the  garden.  I 
remember  now  that  he  looked  at  Calliope  for  answers 
as  to  the  old  lady's  age  and  ailments.  I  comforted 
them  both,  and  gave  them  some  wine,  and  waved  my 
hand  in  answer  to  Calliope's  frequent  and  anxious 
lockings  back  at  my  window,  and  felt  so  sorry  for  the 
grief  which  they  had  to  go  through,  and  sat  musing 
a  long  time  over  her  clasped  hands  and  passionate 
sorrow,  so  doubly  touching  in  Italian. 

When  Edmund  came  home,  I  hastened  to  tell  him : 
"Calliope  is  gone;  her  mother  is  dying."  Would 
you  believe  it?  He  had  met  her  in  the  streets  of 
Pera,  the  merriest  of  the  mad  mob  of  street-revelers ! 
Her  brother  turns  out  to  be  not  her  brother,  and  of 
course  we  have  sent  to  her  relations  to  tell  her  that 
she  need  not  trouble  herself  to  return.  Her  message 
in  answer  was,  that  she  should  come  back,  whether 
we  liked  it  or  not ;  that  her  mother  was  better,  and 
that  she  should  now  feel  happier  and  more  contented 
at  Orta-kioy.  However,  the  grim  Yassili  promises  to 
keep  the  garden  gate  bolted,  and  I  hope  to  be  no 
more  tormented. 

The  old  Armenian  woman  is  reinstated  now  as  a 
naked-legged  housemaid,  in  which  capacity  she  scrubs 
the  floors,  scratching  like  a  hen  with  a  small  birch 
rod  in  the  hollow  of  her  right  foot.  I  thought  this, 
by-the-by,  a  most  awkward  and  laborious  process, 
and  making  up  a  little  mat,  and  tucking  up  my  dress, 
knelt  down  and  showed  her  how  we  do  it  in  England, 
in  dumb-show,  of  course,  for  Eed-jacket  and  I  possess 
not  the  vulgar  aid  of  language  in  our  interesting  com- 


168  IN    AND   AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

munications.  She  looked  very  indignant,  extremely  so 
for  a  calm  Eastern  charwoman,  and  I,  who  thought 
I  had  been  doing  great  things,  was  quite  puzzled. 
At  last  I  clapped  my  hands  for  Vassili  to  interpret. 
Red-jacket  still  stood  in  a  magnificent  attitude,  her 
arms  folded,  and  her  little  birch -broom  still  tightly 
clasped  in  her  dripping  blue  toes.  "  Tell  the  Cocona," 
she  said,  "  that  we  never  kneel  but  to  the  saints."  I 
of  course,  made  a  most  humble  apology,  but  always 
fly  the  approach  of  those  dreadful  red  legs  and  the 
little  birch  rod. 

But  to  return  to  Greek  falsehood.  It  is  certainly 
marvelous,  from  all  that  one  hears  and  sees  daily  and 
hourly.  How  dangerous  and  dreadful,  that  elegant 
and  clever  untruth!  The  girl,  Calliope,  for  instance, 
mixed  up  and  used  truth  with  such  fearful  skill,  to 
gain  her  end.  We  knew  beyond  a  doubt,  from  those 
who  were  well  acquainted  with  them,  that  she  was 
devotedly  fond  of  her  mother,  and  was  the  principal 
support  of  both  her  and  her  sister.  Most  probably 
the  mother  really  said  those  words  at  parting,  "  Ah, 
my  Calliope,  we  may  never  meet  again !"  The  very 
talking  of  her  mother  and  repeating  her  words,  lashed 
her  wild,  excitable,  and  affectionate,  yet  lawless  nature 
into  real  agitation.  At  least  that  is  how  I  read  her, 
and  how  I  analyze  what  I  hear  of  her  countrymen 
and  women. 

It  is  a  fearful  state  of  things,  heart-aching  to  see  a 
fine  people  so  completely  false  and  demoralized, 
socially  and  politically.  Even  little  children  can 
scarcely  be  called  innocent  or  truthful  here.  Why 
should  it  be  permitted  ?  is  often  a  painful  thought,  as 


EFFECTS   OF  TURKISH   MISRULE.  169 

well  as.  How  long  can  it  last  ?     A  rotten  apple  can 
scarcely  hang  on  the  tree  forever. 

From  all  I  hear  and  observe,  it  seems  to  me  that 
ages  of  Turkish  misrule  and  corrupt  example  have 
had  two  opposite  effects  on  two  peoples  of  very  oppo 
site  natures.  The  Turk,  like  a  slow,  phlegmatic  lad 
at  school,  neglected,  sinks  into  nothing ;  is  quiet,  stupid, 
contented,  and  unambitious.  The  clever  boy — the 
Greek — uncontrolled,  ill-treated,  and  with  a  bad  ex 
ample  before  him,  turns  his  great  talents  to  wicked 
ness,  and,  to  gain  his  own  unscrupulous  ends,  uses  his 
invention,  his  genius,  his  great  eloquence,  and  his 
marvelous  quickness,  for  the  most  degrading,  when 
it  might  be  turned  to  the  highest  purposes.  Bat  I 
must  not  venture  into  such  difficult  and  perplexing 
subjects.  Captain  Burton  says  that  I  am  in  the  first 
stage  of  English  indignation  and  disgust.  He  says 
that  in  a  few  months  he  shall  see  me  quietly  seated 
on  a  divan,  taking  every  thing  as  matter  of  course, 
and  not  only  reconciled,  but  thinking  it  is  "  Kismet," 
or  Fate,  and  better  as  it  is.  I  replied :  "  May  I  be 
come  a  tortoise  first !" 
15 


LETTEE    XXI. 

NEW-YEAR'S  EVE — HOUSEKEEPING — DISCUSSING  PRICES — A  GREEK  LAUN 
DRESS — NEW-YEAR'S  MORNING — SECLUSION  OF  THE  TURKISH  WOMEN — 
THE  CEMETERY THE  PERSIAN  EMBASSADOR BALL  AT  THE  EMBASSY. 

.     Orta-kioy,  January  17tli,  1856. 

My  dear  Mother : 

On  New- Year's  Eve  we  thought  very  much  of 
you  all  in  England.  It  was  a  lovely  evening,  as  mild 
as  Spring,  and  Edward  Barker  came  down  with  a 
bunch  of  red  and  white  roses  for  me,  from  his  terraced 
garden,  which  must  sound  strange  to  you,  frost-bound 
as  I  hear  you  are  at  home.  He  also  brought  a  mes 
sage  from  his  mother  and  sisters,  inviting  us  to  spend 
the  last  day  of  the  old  year  with  them ;  so  I  put  on 
my  cloak  and  off  we  started,  my  little  white  dog  Fuad, 
who  is  now  petted  after  the  orthodox  fashion  of  lap- 
dog  votaries,  washed,  combed,  and  blue-ribboned, 
strutting  on  before,  and  valiantly  defying  street  dogs 
who  could  swallow  him  up,  foolish  thing !  in  a  minute. 
Our  man  Vassili,  and  Mr.  Burckhardt  Barker's  wild- 
looking  Albanian,  carried  lanterns  before  us,  after  the 
fashion  of  the  place.  Edward  and  his  young  brother 
amused  themselves  by  clinking  their  sticks  on  the 
stones,  as  the  watchmen  do,  and  presently  the  younger 
one,  full  of  fun  and  boyish  mischief,  cried  out  the 
long  wailing  Turkish  cry  of  "  Yangin-var !"  which 
means,  there  is  a  fire. 

Nothing  can  be  darker  and  quieter  than  a  Turkish 
(170) 


HOUSEKEEPING.  171 

village  at  night.  So  profound  is  the  silence,  that  you 
might  almost  believe  the  place  to  be  deserted.  How 
ever,  an  instant  after  our  lively  young  friend's  cry 
had  sounded  through  the  narrow,  cloisterlike  streets, 
we  could  see  the  shadows  of  many  forms  moving  ra 
pidly  across  the  lattices,  no  doubt  to  ask  news  of  the 
watchmen,  or  to  listen  to  their  cry  of  where  the 
fire  was. 

"  Get  on,"  said  Edward,  "  we  shall  have  some  angry 
Turk  out  upon  us." 

I  caught  up.Fuad,  and  we  hastily  turned  out  of  the 
street  into  another  narrower  still.  The  Greek  men 
were  in  ecstacies,  their  lanterns  rolling  about  in  their 
laughter,  from  one  heap  of  stones  and  rnud  to  another. 
It  was  just  like  half-disturbing  a  few  drowsy  owls. 
Mr.  Barker's  house  is  higher  up  the  hill  than  ours ; 
and,  after  you  have  climbed  up  the  steep  stony  little 
streets,  there  are  three  nights  of  terraced  steps  to 
mount,  which  is  very  tiring  at  first,  as  indeed  all 
walking  is,  in  this  part  of  the  world. 

We  passed  a  very  pleasant  New-Year's  Eve.  There 
were  no  sweet-sounding  English  bells  to  listen  to, 
ringing  the  old  year  out ;  but  we  had  music  and  an 
agreeable  conversation  on  Eastern  matters  with  Mr. 
Barker,  who  both  knows  a  great  deal  and  how  to  tell 
it  pleasantly.  His  children  are  pretty,  amiable  little 
creatures,  doing  the  greatest  credit  to  their  excellent 
mother,  especially  in  a  country  like  this.  I  have 
already  told  you  how  much  kindness  I  have  met 
with  from  Mrs.  Barker  and  her  daughters.  Indeed 
I  hardly  know  how  we  should  have  got  on  without 
them.  Every  Saturday  morning,  rain  or  shine,  saw 
Miss  Clara  seated  on  my  divan,  with  all  the  wretched 


172  IN   AND   AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

Greek  scrawls  of  my  weekly  bills  before  her.  Then 
came  a  battle  of  two  or  three  hours  with  milkman, 
butcher,  and  baker,  poor  savages  1  trying  to  take  us 
in;  and  to  charge  double  the  proper  price,  because  we 
were  English. 

Now,  thanks  to  my  kind  friend,  I  know  the  proper 
price  of  every  thing,  and  my  housekeeping  grows  less 
and  less  stormy  every  day.  Washing  is  at  present 
my  greatest  difficulty.  There  is  a  Greek  lady  in  the 
village  (I  can  call  her  nothing  else  but  lady),  who 
has  sometimes  condescended  to  return  us  a  few  torn, 
coffee-colored  things,  which  we  can  just  recognize 
as  our  own,  and  to  ask  in  return  about  their  value — 
perhaps  a  little  more.  She  is  the  most  dignified  little 
person  in  the  most  dignified  rags.  I  often  wonder, 
when  I  look  at  her,  whether  she  takes  off  that  green 
jacket  trimmed  with  fur,  even  on  washing-day,  and 
whether  she  does  not  often  put  down  her  iron,  to 
wrap  it  round  her,  and  stand  with  folded  arms,  like 
the  queen  of  a  ruined  kingdom,  as  she  does  now. 
Sometimes  I  hear  the  sound  of  her  loose  slippers 
dragging  over  the  matting  of  the  outer  room,  as  I  am 
reading  quietly  alone.  She  strolls  into  my  little 
drawing-room :  "  Buon  giorno,  Signora  !"  is  the  ex 
tent  of  her  Italian.  She  then  takes  a  majestic  survey, 
first  of  myself,  and  then  of  the  room,  pats  Fuad  en 
couragingly,  and  chirps  to  the  Bashia.  She  has  left 
the  "  washing"  on  the  divan  in  the  next  room.  Oh, 
my  poor  collars!  But  it  is  worse  than  useless  to 
complain,  so  I  say  nothing  ;  only  on  asking  :  "  Quanti 
piastri  ?"  I  find  the  sum  which  the  lady  asks  too 
ridiculous,  compared  with  what  my  friend  Miss  Barker 
has  told  me  to  give.  I  remonstrate  gently,  by  signs, 


HOUSEKEEPING.  173 

and  in  Italian.  She  folds  her  arms,  with  an  injured 
look,  arranges  the  faded  embroidered  handkerchief 
round  her  head,  and  seats  herself  on  the  divan.  Then 
I  clap  my  hands  for  Vassili,  whose  very  nrustachios 
curl  with  ire  when  I  tell  him  what  is  the  matter. 
Then  such  a  "  row"  takes  place !  you  would  think 
that  nothing  but  a  good  sharp  Damascene  blade  could 
settle  the  question.  At  first  I  used  to  be  rather  bored 
at  scenes  like  these,  of  almost  daily  occurrence,  but 
now  I  know  how  long  the  storm  will  last,  and  what  it 
means. 

In  this  country  there  is  no  fixed  price  for  any  thing 
— it  is  what  can  be  got.  If  the  debate  is  with  any  one 
who  can  speak  Italian,  I  give  them  a  volley  myself; 
if  only  Greek  or  Turkish  is  understood,  Vassili  "  goes 
in,"  as  the  school-boys  say,  and  interprets  fire  and 
fury  for  me.  You  cannot  hear  your  own  voice,  or  get 
in  a  single  word,  while  this  sharp  and  deadly  skirmish 
goes  on.  I  sit  quietly  doing  whatever  I  may  be  about, 
or  calmly  stroking  Fuad's  pretty  white  ears,  and  mar 
veling  at  the  violence  and  gestures  of  the  combatants, 
when,  as  suddenly  as  a  squall  drops  on  the  Bosphorus, 
the  storm  ceases,  your  money  is  taken  with  the  usual 
Eastern  salutation,  and  your  interpreter  tells  you  that 
your  hand  is  kissed  with  many  thanks.  This  is  a 
scene  of  last  Monday  especially. 

I  ventured  to  ask  why  the  things  looked  worse  than 
usual.  The  lady  tucked  her  hands  into  the  fur  pock 
ets  of  the  green  jacket,  and  asked  indignantly  what  I 
could  expect  of  things  ironed  on  a  chair,  for  it  seems 
that  her  wretched  hovel  contains  no  table,  and  this  ac 
counts  for  the  marks  of  rushes  on  the  shirt-fronts.  We 
then  tacitly  agree  to  drop  the  subject,  and  enter  into 


174  IN   AND  AROUND  STAMBOUL. 

an  amicable  conversation  about  the  miseries  of  the 
Greeks,  and  Turkish  oppression.  She  complained 
bitterly  of  the  want  and  suffering  of  the  poor,  who 
worked  for  the  Turks,  feasting  and  idling.  I  was  very 
sorry  for  her,  and  gave  her  a  few  little  things  for  her 
children.  I  asked  if  she  could  come  and  help  Eed- 
jacket;  "Not  the  next  day;"  it  was  Saint  somebody's 
day.  The  next  ?  No ;  it  was  Saint  somebody-else's 
day  ;  and  between  feast-days  and  fast-days,  she  could 
do  nothing  that  week.  I  said  I  hoped  she  would  not 
think  I  wished  to  say  any  thing  disrespectful  of  her 
religion,  but  it  seemed  to  me  that  the  observance  of 
so  many  feast-days  and  fast-days  kept  her  very  poor, 
and  her  children  very  thin.  She  shrugged  her  shoul 
ders,  laughed,  and  said  nothing.  I  hear  from  Yassili 
to-day,  that  two  of  her  children  are  very  ill.  Heaven 
help  them,  poor  things  !  for  there  are  no  nurses  but 
ignorance  and  superstition  here. 

But  to  turn  to  a  very  different  subject.  I  must  tell 
you  how  we  spent  New- Year's  day.  Lady  Stratford  de 
Redcliffe  gave  a  ball,  for  which  I  took  caique  into 
Pera  as  usual,  and  wended  to  Mrs.  Mysseri's,  my  favor- 
rite  quarters.  It  was  a  lovely  day,  the  ships  were 
dressed  with  flags,  and  the  Bosphorus  as  gay  and  spark 
ling  as  it  always  is  in  sunshine. 

To  talk  against  this  place  is  to  talk  against  a  great 
beauty  when  she  is  not  by — she  is  false,  she  is  treach 
erous,  she  has  a  thousand  faults : — even  her  splendid 
array  costs  pain  and  misery  to  others.  Yet  only  to 
see  her,  is  quite  enough ;  you  are  charmed  again,  arid 
forget  every  thing  but  her  fascination.  This  New- 
Year's  morning,  these  palace-fringed  shores  and  many- 
tinted  hills  and  cypress-shaded  cemeteries,  with  here 


TURKISH   WOMEN.  175 

and  there  a  distant  bit  of  landscape  which  you  have 
never  seen  before,  brought  out  by  the  sun's  rays  rest 
ing  fully  upon  it,  looked  even  more  varied  and  inter 
esting  than  usual.  The  Sultan's  snow-white  palace, 
too,  rises  beautifully  out  of  the  dark  blue  water,  which 
reflects  even  the  purple  pigeons  upon  its  roof.  As 
your  caique  darts  by,  you  can  often  detect  a  shadowy 
form  peeping  through  the  close  white  lattice-work  of 
the  Seraglio  windows,  no  doubt  longing  for  liberty.  I 
used  to  notice,  some  time  ago,  one  window  in  which 
three  or  four  flower-pots  were  set,  and  which  were  evi 
dently  taken  great  care  of,  by  one  of  the  fair  prisoners. 
Then  I  noticed  them  faded  and  scorched  by  the  sun, 
and  now  they  are  gone  altogether.  I  wonder  what 
has  happened  to  their  poor  mistress.  However,  the 
Sultan's  ladies  proverbially  enjoy  greater  liberty  than 
any  other  Turkish  women  of  rank  here,  and  their  yash 
maks  are  certainly  the  thinnest.  Some  time  ago  they 
were  frequently  seen  at  the  palace  windows,  but  this 
created  great  scandal,  and  a  guard  of  blacks  now  walk 
up  and  down  the  marble  terrace  beneath. 

The  higher  the  rank  of  the  women  here,  the  more 
closely  they  are  guarded  and  shut  up.  Our  great  beau 
ties  are  seen  everywhere ;  a  great  beauty  of  the  old 
and  highest  Turkish  fashion  is  often  married  without 
ever  having  passed  beyond  the  walls  of  the  harem  gar 
den,  and  without  having  beheld  the  face  of  any  other 
man  than  her  father.  This  is  the  highest  Turkish  ton. 
Women  of  the  lower  class  are  comparatively  free,  and 
can  go,  even  unattended,  into  the  streets  and  bazaars 
whenever  they  like,  but  of  course  vailed  and  feridjeed, 
so  that  it  would  be  impossible  to  recognize  them.  It 
being  lovely  weather  on  New- Year's  day,  there  were 


176  IN   AND   AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

hundreds  of  Turkish  women  "  taking  the  air/'  some  in 
telekis,  guarded  by  blacks,  others  on  foot,  shuffling 
along  in  their  loose  yellow  slippers. 

I  was  stopped  by  the  crowd  for  a  short  time  when 
we  got  out  on  the  Bridge  of  Boats.  I  and  my  dress 
were  examined  with  the  greatest  curiosity,  for  these 
shrouded  dames  never  seem  to  tire  of  staring  at  En 
glishwomen.  One  very  pretty  creature  in  rather  a  thin 
vail,  was  quite  charmed  with  the  flounces  of  my  dress, 
feeling  them  with  her  red-stained  ringers,  and  saying, 
"  Ghuzel,  ghuzel !"  which  means  pretty.  They  have 
very  simple,  engaging  ways,  and  seem  so  inclined  to 
love  you,  taking  hold  of  one  or  two  fingers,  as  children 
do,  and  looking  into  your  face  appealingly,  which  is 
very  touching  to  me,  for  they  seem  to  think  us  so 
free  and  happy,  so  different  to  themselves.  I  can  say 
a  few  words  of  Turkish  now,  and  hope  soon  to  learn 
more.  It  is  difficult,  but  a  very  fine  and  harmonious 
language — charming  when  spoken  by  the  women. 
My  pretty  friends  on  the  Bridge  were  delighted  when 
I  said  "  Allaha  iss  marladik !"  which  means  "  Good-by, 
God  bless  you !"  and  which,  it  must  be  confessed,  I  had 
learned  to  say  the  evening  before,  like  a  parrot. 

It  was  with  great  difficulty  that  Vassili  forced  a  way 
for  me  through  the  dense  crowds  of  Galata  and  Pera. 
The  noise,  shouting,  dirt,  and  confusion,  seem  worse 
every  time  you  go  there.  It  is  really  frightful  since 
the  war,  quite  impossible  to  be  conceived  unless  seen. 
However,,  we  at  last  got  to  Mysseri's,  where  I  had 
agreed  to  spend  the  day  with  a  friend.  Edmund  was 
enjoying  a  holiday,  shooting  at  Kandilli,  where  he  was 
to  dine,  and  then  join  us  at  the  ball  in  the  evening. 

Mysseri's  was  all   bustle  and   confusion.     Officers 


TURKISH    CEMETERIES.  177 

had  arrived  from  Scutari,  Kulalee,  and  other  places, 
to  attend  the  ball.  Poor  Mrs.  Mysseri  was  half  dis 
tracted,  for  English,  French,  and  Sardinians  came 
pouring  in  with  their  servants  and  portmanteaus. 
The  great  topic  of  conversation  is  the  fall  of  Kars — so 
gallantly  defended,  so  cruelly  allowed  to  fall.  It  is 
very  perplexing  and  painful  to  listen  to  all  this ;  and 
what  have  I  not  heard  of  the  conduct  of  this  war ! 
Do  not  fail  to  read  Mr.  Duncan's  book,  called  "A 
Campaign  with  the  Turks  in  Asia ;"  it  is  very  good, 
and  tells  you  much  about  Kars,  and  its  thievish 
pashas,  like  wasps  in  a  hive. 

It  was  curious  to  talk  over  all  these  things  about 
the  war,  walking  again  with  a  friend  in  the  cemetery, 
among  thousands  of  clustered  turban-stones  and  gi 
gantic  cypress-trees.  There  is  a  magnificent  view  of 
Stamboul  from  the  ancient  well  on  which  we  sat,  and 
of  the  seven  ruined  arches  of  the  Eoman  aqueduct, 
which  still  speak  boldly  of  old  Home  across  the  clear 
blue  sky,  even  among  the  minarets. 

Lower  down,  in  a  row  of  melancholy-looking  houses, 
looking  on  the  dark  slopes  of  the  burial-ground,  I 
found  the  house  in  which  my  father  once  lived  for  a 
year  It  was  a  pension,  or  boarding-house,  in  those 
days  (there  were  no  hotels  then,)  kept  by  a  Madame 
Josephine  somebody,  who  has  long  since  slept  in  the 
Frank  burial-ground  at  Pera.  He  little  thought  that 
I  should  ever  stand  on  the  threshold  of  that  door,  and 
look  on  the  same  headless  Janissary  stones,  and  on 
the  same  mournful,  dreary -looking  trees !  To-day  a 
small  flock  of  sheep  and  goats  were  browsing  there, 
tended  by  a  picturesque  and  ragged  shepherd.  The 
reverence  with  which  the  Turks  are  said  to  regard 


178  IN   AND   ABOUND  STAMBOUL. 

their  cemeteries  seems  to  consist,  at  least  in  these 
days,  in  merely  letting  them  alone.  Hundreds  of 
stones  have  fallen  down  in  these  two  great  cemeteries, 
and  in  many  smaller  ones  which  I  have  visited,  and 
lie  moldering  on  the  ground.  On  the  side  next  to 
Pera,  dogs,  geese,  and  fowls  stroll  in,  and  an  occa 
sional  donkey.  Goats  browsing,  or  climbing  over  the 
stones,  and  children  swinging,  are  constantly  seen. 
But  in  these  days  the  Turks  seem  to  neglect  every 
thing,  and  the  same  melancholy  state  of  decay  is  visi 
ble  everywhere. 

On  leaving  the  cemetery  in  order  to  regain  the 
streets,  we  had  to  walk  over  a  heap  of  garbage  large 
enough  to  distemper  a  whole  city.  It  was  so  large, 
that  small  paths  or  tracks  had  been  made  across  it, 
in  which  your  foot  often  sank  above  the  ankle.  A 
band  of  ferocious  street  dogs  were  playing,  barking, 
and  basking  on  it.  Presently  we  came  to  a  large 
puddle  of  filthy  water.  One  of  the  largest  fallen 
tombstones  had  been  placed  across  it,  and  Turks, 
Greeks,  and  Franks  were  glad  enough  to  avail  them 
selves  of  it  as  a  temporary  bridge.  So  much  for  the 
sacredness  and  good  keeping  of  Turkish  cemeteries ! 

Well,  but  for  the  ball  at  last,  which  was  really  a 
very  beautiful  sight ;  such  a  splendid  gathering  of 
English,  French,  and  Sardinian  officers,  plenty  of  stars 
and  orders,  and  plenty  of  diamonds.  An  ordinary 
ball  will  seem  but  a  very  dull  affair  after  such  as  this. 
There  were  some  Armenian  ladies  literally  covered 
with  diamonds ;  they  sat  still  and  glistened  (at  least 
their  jewels  did),  but  were  remarkable,  I  should  think, 
for  nothing  else.  One  of  them  had,  too,  a  spray  of 
brilliants  on  each  side  of  her  head,  made  to  represent 


THE   PERSIAN    EMBASSADOE.  179 

a  wide  wreath  of  laurel  or  bay,  and  the  same  kind 
of  branch  en  corsage,  with  enormous  loops  of  truly 
Oriental  pearls. 

Most  of  the  Turkish  ministers  were  present,  one  or 
two  of  them  mild,  gentlemanly -looking  men,  but  I 
cannot  say  much  for  the  rest.  I  should  think  that 
they  cannot  enjoy  a  ball  much.  Most  of  them  sit, 
quietly  talking,  on  the  sofas, — others  walk  through 
the  rooms  and  corridors,  holding  each  other  by  the 
hand,  after  the  manner  of  little  boys.  Eustim  Bey  is 
quite  of  the  modern  European  school,  and  has  posi 
tively  learned  to  dance,  no  doubt  to  the  great  disgust 
of  many  a  true  Mussulman.  He  asked  me  the  usual 
question  of  how  I  liked  this  country  ;  and  of  the  coun 
try  I  was  able  to  speak  with  enthusiasm,  just  lightly 
touching  on  the  things  which  we  English  missed, 
roads,  etc.,  etc.  A  pasha,  who  spoke  Italian  pretty 
well,  hoped  I  should  live  long  among  them ;  a  wish 
which  I  devoutly  trusted,  sotto  voce,  might  never  be 
realized. 

The  Persian  embassador  came  late,  with  his  suite, 
walked  through  the  rooms  with  the  Oriental  attach^, 
looked  at  the  dancers  with  quiet  amazement,  and  then 
seated  himself  on  a  low  divan :  a  curious-looking  old 
man,  according  to  our  notions  of  dress,  but  after 
all,  the  most  sensible-looking  person  in  the  world. 
He  wore  a  deliciously  soft  flowered  dressing-gown,  a 
long  gray  beard,  through  which  some  very  fine  dia 
monds  on  his  breast  glistened  now  and  then,  and  a 
high  conical  cap  of  curly  black  lamb-skin.  Lord 
Stratford  conversed  for  some  time  with  this  remark 
able  old  gentleman,  through  Mr.  Smythe.  I  heard 
that  his  lordship  considered  the  conversation  not  very 


180  IN   AND   ABOUND   STAMBOUL. 

satisfactory  with  regard  to  the  alliance  of  Persia  with 
England.  Persia  is  too  much  exposed  to  the  tender 
mercies  of  the  Russians,  who,  after  all,  manage  to 
keep  their  neighbors  in  great  awe.  Even  the  Turks 
are  beginning  to  be  very  doubtful  as  to  the  ultimate 
success  of  the  Allies.  England  has  lost  dreadfully 
in  millitary  reputation  lately,  I  am  sorry  to  say. 

It  was  three  in  the  morning  when  we  left  the  ball 
room,  and  they  were  then  dancing  "  Sir  Roger  de 
Coverly."  A  more  splendid  and  varied  assemblage 
could  hardly  be  imagined,  although  there  was  rather 
a  scarcity  of  ladies.  We  returned  to  Mysseri's  as 
usual.  Most  of  the  officers  had  ridden  to  the  ball, 
to  avoid  getting  splashed  with  mud,  as  those  on  foot 
must  be,  and  the  crowds  of  horses  and  orderlies  in 
the  court-yard  of  the  palace,  amongst  a  mob  of  Greeks, 
and  the  Turkish  guard  drawn  up  around,  looked  very 
strange  in  the  glare  of  torches  and  lanterns,  large  and 
small. 

But  I  must  say  good-night,  being  fairly  tired  out 
with  my  long  letter,  and  after  all  I  do  not  feel  sure 
that  it  will  be  an  interesting  one  to  you.  I  have 
always  so  much  to  say,  that  I  begin  to  write  off  that 
which  first  comes  into  my  head,  without  thinking 
enough,  perhaps,  of  what  you  would  like  best.  When 
the  weather  is  more  settled,  I  am  going  to  pay  a  visit 
to  one  or  two  harems,  to  which  I  am  offered  an  intro 
duction  ;  then  to  see  the  mosque  of  Santa  Sophia,  and 
the  Sultan's  new  palace ;  in  fact,  to  "  do  the  lions"  of 
Constantinople,  which  I  have  not  done  yet,  for  various 
reasons ;  one  of  which  is,  the  almost  inexplicable  aver 
sion  I  have  to  run  over  beaten  ground,  or  to  go  where 
I  am  told  "  everybody"  goes. 


LETTER    XXII. 

EASTERN  CIVILIZATION — THE  REFORMING  SULTAN — THE  LEVANTINE 
POPULATION — THEIR  IGNORANCE  AND  PRETENSION — EARLY  FLIRTA 
TIONS — LARGE  FAMILIES — A  LEVANTINE  YOUNG  LADY. 

Orta-kioy,  January  20th,  1856. 

My  dear  Mother : 

All  well,  and  a  packet  in  from  England,  and 
no  doubt  we  shall  have  letters  from  home.  We  hear 
that  a  telegraphic  dispatch  has  arrived,  announcing 
that  peace  is  almost  certain,  and  trust  it  may  be  true. 
What  sorrowful  stories  one  hears  here  !  People  ought 
to  be  very  happy  who  are  safe  at  home,  and  have  not 
lost  those  dearest  to  them  by  some  violent  or  distress 
ing  death.  We  do  not  think  much  of  the  glory  of  the 
war  so  near  the  scene  of  action.  One  can  only  hope 
and  believe  that  much  ultimate  good  may  come  of  it, 
but  it  is  very  disheartening  to  see  the  almost  hopeless 
state  of  things  here,  and  what  unsatisfactory  races  of 
people  we  have  been  helping  at  such  a  cost.  Civili 
zation  seems  to  have  begun  the  wrong  way,  and  to 
have  introduced  its  follies  and  vices  before  any  thing 
else.  The  worst  people  are  those  most  Europeanized, 
and  the  prejudiced  and  intolerant  Mussulman,  who 
hates  us,  is  far  better  than  the  unprincipled  renegade 
who  cheats  us.  In  dress  it  is  just  the  same.  First 
of  all,  Sultan  Mahmoud,  the  Eeformer,  waged  war 
against  the  turban,  which  not  only  admirably  suits 
the  Turkish  cast  of  countenance,  but  protects  the  head 
from  the  burning  rays  of  the  sun  so  much  better  than 

16  (181) 


182  IN   AND   AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

its  substitute,  the  fez.  Next  the  Sultan  tried  to  put 
down  beards,  the  pride  and  glory  of  Mussulmans, 
which  not  only  gave  great  offense  and  sorrow,  but 
greatly  disfigured  men  with  small  and  receding  jaws. 
There  are  a  few  fine  beards  left,  though ;  and  they 
still  flourish  in  undisturbed  magnificence  in  the  prov 
inces.  Prezioza's  charming  sketches  will  no  doubt  be 
much  more  valuable  as  pictures  of  Eastern  life,  when 
all  is  altered  here,  and  the  European  stiff,  ugly  dress, 
takes  the  place  of  flowing  robes  and  rich  coloring. 

As  you  know,  the  Turks,  since  the  days  of  Osman, 
have  been  distinguished  as  splendid  military  horse 
men.  The  Sultan  has  taken  away  their  short  stirrups, 
and,  in  comparison,  they  can  hardly  ride  at  all.  This 
is  certainly  an  extraordinary  country  for  doing  every 
thing  the  wrong  way  (at  least  the  little  that  is  done 
at  all),  and  for  producing  incompetent  or  wicked 
rulers.  Then  the  waifs  and  strays  of  all  nations 
settled  here, — what  a  set  they  are,  and  how  ashamed 
their  respective  mother-countries  would  be  to  own 
them  !  People  living  like  flies  in  the  sun,  with  no 
moral  or  religious  existence,  no  social  life,  no  love  of 
country ;  no  schools,  no  means  of  instruction ;  they 
seem  to  belong  to  no  one,  and  no  one  feels  any  re 
sponsibility  about  them.  The  Greek  and  Levantine 
women  are  generally,  and  indeed  almost  necessarily, 
ignorant,  tattling,  and  insipid.  The  Levantines  are 
a  thoroughly  mongrel  race,  despising  the  two  domi 
nant  races,  and  yet  possessing  all  their  faults  with 
out  any  thing  that  is  good  in  either.  A  would-be 
Periote  fine  lady  figures  as  a  badly  over-dressed 
Frenchwoman  in  an  evening,  and  lounges  on  a  divan 
in  true  Eastern  indolence  of  a  morning — only  in  a 


THE   LEVANTINES.  183 

faded  dressing-gown  and  shoes  down  at  the  heel, 
instead  of  the  elegant  robe  and  fair  naked  foot  and 
embroidered  slipper  of  the  real  Turkish  lady.  A 
Turkish  lady's  ignorance,  too,  does  not  matter,  in  her 
quiet  garden  life,  for  it  is  almost  like  that  of  a  child. 
A  Levantine  is  detestably  pretentious,  if  she  has 
chanced  to  learn  to  play  a  waltz  badly  of  some  wand 
ering  music-master,  or  can  write  a  note  of  five  lines  so 
as  to  be  intelligible,  or  to  equal  one  by  an  English 
rnaid-of-all-work. 

They  begin  their  silly,  trumpery  love-affairs  long 
before  our  English  children  are  out  of  their  pinafores. 
How  often  have  I  longed  to  carry  off  some  wretched 
child,  beflowered  and  bedizened,  flirting  away  in  cast- 
off  fashions  and  with  the  most  ridiculous  airs  in  the 
world,  and  first  to  whip  her  soundly  with  a  good  and 
true  English  birch,  then  put  her  to  bed  before  mid 
night  (their  usual  hour),  and  array  her  poor  wasted 
and  pinched-up  figure  in  good  brown -holland,  strap 
shoes,  and  plain  straw  hat  the  next  morning,  prepa 
ratory  to  the  process  of  making  her  a  child  again,  if 
possible. 

The  Levantines  like  to  be  considered  English  or 
French,  according  as  their  pretensions  to  either  origin 
are  nearest.  They  worship  and  imitate  both,  with  a 
vulgar  notion  of  making  themselves  "  smart"  and 
"genteel"  above  their  neighbors,  a  la  Morleena  Ken- 
nigs.  They  affect  to  despise  every  thing  here,  and  are 
always  speaking  of  some  cousin  or  friend  who  has 
been  to  England,  and  are  dying  to  go  themselves, 
confident  of  making  a  sensation.  They  visit  you  and 
flatter  you,  and  beg  the  patterns  of  your  gown  and 
bonnet,  and  try  to  find  out  how  many  pocket-hand- 


184  IN   AND   AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

kerchiefs  you  have  got,  and  how  you  have  lived  in 
England,  and  if  you  are  acquainted  with  Lady  this  or 
Lady  that,  whose  name  they  may  have  seen  in  some 
stray  Album  of  1821.  They  all  speak  through  their 
noses,  with  a  terrible  twang.  They  chatter  or  cackle, 
they  do  not  talk ;  and  chatter  a  trifle  threadbare  too. 
The  most  ambitious  get  a  few  shilling  copies  of  bad 
novels  and  consider  themselves  literary  personages. 
They  dress  their  hair  a  pefect  caricature  of  some  way 
in  which  it  was  worn  in  Paris  and  London  a  year  ago, 
and  consider  themselves  leaders  of  fashion.  They 
gossip  and  laugh  with  the  Greek  servants,  and  com 
plain  of  them.  Like  them,  they  intrigue  and  tell 
falsehoods  by  bushels,  but  not  with  their  happy  in 
vention  and  native  grace.  They  are  a  terrible  tissue 
of  dirt  and  finery,  ignorance  and  pretension.  They 
can  do  nothing  well,  and  you  feel  that  nothing  is  in 
them,  which  is  worse.  Both  Greeks  and  Turks  seem 
to  hold  them  in  very  light  estimation.  I  said  one 
day  to  Vassili,  "  But  '  Madame  So-and-so  said  so." 
He  said,  "  The  English  speak  the  truth"  (a  piece  of 
Greek  flattery  to  me,  I  suppose),  "but  all  the  Le 
vantines"  (with  a  gesture  of  disgust)  "  are  liars."  I 
am  afraid  there  is  a  great  deal  of  truth  in  this,  as  well 
as  in  many  other  things  that  are  said  of  them ;  and 
they  are  certainly  not  well  calculated  to  give  the  peo 
ple  of  the  country  a  flattering  notion  of  Europeans. 

The  Levantines  almost  invariably  have  families  here 
so  large  as  to  be  better  suited  to  rabbits  and  mice,  or 
any  animal  of  gregarious  and  inexpensive  habits,  rather 
than  to  human  beings.  I  have  seen  a  faded,  slovenly 
mother,  with  children  of  all  ages,  from  :i  daughter 
looking  as  old  as  herself  to  a  baby  in  arms.  Such 


A    LEVANTINE    GIRL.  185 

mothers  often  tell  you  that  they  were  married  here  at 
fifteen,  and  delicately  hinting  that  they  have  been 
grandmothers  for  some  time,  look  down  with  a  simper, 
and  evidently  expect  a  compliment  on  their  youthful 
looks.  Poor  faded  things  they  generally  are !  up  at 
midnight  from  babyhood,  as  they  have  been.  As 
years  go  on,  there  are  successions  of  babies,  more  idle, 
useless,  Greek  and  Albanian  servants,  more  household 
confusion  and  complaint.  You  may  imagine  what  is 
the  fate  of  the  elder  children.  In  a  conversation  of 
the  most  melancholy  ignorance,  the  daughter  of  a  rich 
Levantine  merchant  said  to  me  :  "  Ma  never  has  time 
to  consider  what  to  do  with  us,  the  little  ones  and  the 
servants  are  such  a  bother,  and  the  baby  is  always 
crying.  There  have  been  one  or  two  schools  here,  but 
they  never  lasted  [a  yawn], — always  gave  up — I  don't 
know  why  [another  yawn]  ;  perhaps  because  it  didn't 
pay,  or  some  stupid  reason  or  other.  Ma  had  a  gov 
erness  for  us  once.  Uncle  Frank  got  her  out  from 
England.  She  cost  Ma  a  great  deal,  and  she  was  very 
cross  to  us  (we  plagued  her  finely  though).  These 
governesses  are  always  doing  something  disagreeable 
when  they  come  out  here ;  they  either  get  the  cholera, 
or  get  married,  just  as  you  are  beginning  to  get  on. 
Our  creature  got  married,  nasty  sly  thing ;  and  only 
fancy,  she  was  actually  engaged,  it  seems,  when  she 
came  to  us,  only  she  couldn't  marry  because  they  had 
nothing  to  live  upon,  or  some  excuse  of  that  kind,  I 
know  Ma  said."  I  assure  you  that  this  is  really  pretty 
Stella's  conversation,  or  rather  drawl,  as  she  lay  on 
the  sofa  after  breakfast  one  morning.  A  few  ques 
tions  put  to  me  will  give  you  a  further  idea  of  what 
the.  Levantine  or  Periote  girls  are  as  companions. 


186  IN   AND   AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

"It  is  horribly  dull  here,  Mrs.  Hornby"  (with  a 
doleful  yawn).  "Keally  I  don't  know  how  we  shall 
get  through  the  day."  I  must  tell  you  that  we  were 
visitors  at  one  of  the  loveliest  villages  on  the  Bos- 
phorus,  with  a  most  exquisite  view  from  the  drawing- 
room  window, — books  and  music, — a  charming  gar 
den,  our  host's  pride  and  delight, — and  nothing  to  do 
but  to  amuse  ourselves  till  the  gentlemen  returned  in 
the  evening.  I  thought  how  much  I  should  have  en 
joyed  being  alone  there  without  this  tiresome,  insipid 
girl ;  but,  after  looking  with  feelings  of  despair  at  a 
table  covered  with  new  books  from  England,  I  felt 
that  I  must  give  every  thing  up  for  gossip — she  took 
hold  of  me  in  such  a  despairing  manner.  "  I  wish  we 
were  at  Smyrna :  there  are  plenty  of  officers  there, 
and  it's  so  nice ;  I'm  afraid  you  will  be  very  dull  here. 
Mr.  Host  is  very  kind,  but  he's  a  queer  man,  who  does 
not  care  for  dancing  nor  any  thing  else  that's  pleasant ; 
he  only  cares  for  a  lot  of  dry,  rubbishing  books,  and 
that  nasty  dull  garden,  where  I  am  sure  there's  noth 
ing  to  see. 

"  I  suppose  you're  fond  of  reading,  Mrs.  Hornby  ?" 
I  replied  that  I  was.  "Ah,  the  English  have  written 
some  very  pretty  things ;  I  have  read  a  great  deal  at 
one  time  and  another.  I  think  one  ought  to  be  intel 
lectual  in  a  nasty,  dull  country  like  this,  with  nothing 
but  those  stupid  Turks  to  look  at.  I  think  I  almost 
know  by  heart  every  number  of  the  '  Family  Herald.' 
Don't  you  read  the  'Family  Herald'  ?  La,  you  quite 
surprise  me  !  It's  so  pretty  !  ISTow  you  should  read 
'Kosalie,  or  the  Secret  Attachment,'  and  'Lady  Ma 
tilda  Wilhelmina,'  and  '  Sighs  and  Tears,  from  Anas- 
tasia's  Scrap-book.'  I  suppose  you've  read  Byron  ? 
There's  a  little  house,  close  to  Pa's,  at  Smvrna,  where 


A    LEVANTINE   BLUE-STOCKING.  187 

he  lived  once.  I  don't  know  what  he  meant  by  com 
ing  out  here,  I'm  sure.  I  suppose,  being  a  lord,  he 
had  plenty  of  friends  in  England.  He  was  a  very 
queer  man, — eccentric,  don't  you  call  it?  The  old 
Turkish  gardener  has  often  told  Pa  how  the  English 
lord  used  to  frighten  him,  walking  up  and  down  the 
little  orchard  and  talking  loud  to  himself  and  throw 
ing  his  arms  about.  I  suppose  that's  the  way  he  wrote 
his  poetry. 

"  He  went  to  Greece  after  that,  to  look  after  some 
property  that  had  been  left  him,  they  said  at  Smyrna, 
but  he  died  in  some  outlandish  place  or  other.  It  was 
very  funny  of  him,  when  he  might  have  been  so  com 
fortable  in  England.  He  had  a  very  grand  funeral  in 
England,  hadn't  he?"  I  replied  that  I  thought  not, 
and  that  to  the  best  of  my  recollection  his  heart  was 
taken  to  Newstead  and  buried  quietly  there. 

"  Oh,  indeed,  how  funny !  I  thought  he  had  a  very 
grand  funeral  in  London,  for  I  remember  reading  a 
poem,  a  long  time  ago,  where  there  was  something 
about  a  '  funeral  note'  and  '  his  martial  cloak'  around 
him,'  so  I  thought  it  was  Byron ;  Ma  said  so." 

Here  ended  the  literary  part  of  our  coaversation, 
which  I  assure  you  is  almost  verbatim,  only  I  cannot 
put  in  all  the  yawns,  and  the  nasal  drawl  of  this  beau 
tiful  girl  of  nineteen,  who  is,  I  must  add,  quite  above 
the  average  of  Levantines.  One  of  these  heard  an 
Englishman  laughingly  say  something  about  the  Ides 
of  March  the  other  evening  at  an  Embassy  party.  I 
suppose  she  thought  that  he  alluded  to  beans,  or  some 
other  vegetable,  for  she  said  very  promptly,  "  The 
green  peas  are  not  up  yet."  (Whenever  we  have  any 
beans  now,  we  call  them  the  Ides  of  March.)  There 
is  certainly  much  to  be  done  in  this  Dart  of  the  world. 


LETTER    XXIII. 

NEW-YEAR'S  DAY — COSTUMES— GREEK  WOMEN — REVELS— VISIT  TO  AN 

ARMENIAN   FAMILY VASSILI INTERVIEW  WITH   A  BASIII-BAZOUK — 

VILLAGERS TURKISH  CHILDREN. 

Orta-kioy,  January  24th,  1856. 

My  dear  Mr.  Hornby : 

I  told  you,  in  a  former  letter,  how  we  spent 
New- Year's  Day  at  Constantinople.  The  Greek  New- 
Year's  Day  falls  upon  the  13th  of  our  new  year.  The 
old  watchmen  chanted  prayers  at  daybreak,  at  the 
doors  of  all  Greek  houses.  Except  the  poorest  of  the 
poor,  every  one  sported  something  new  and  gay  on  this 
day.  Some  of  the  embroidered  Greek  and  Albanian 
jackets  displayed  by  the  young  beaux  were  really 
beautiful — scarlet  braided  with  gold,  and  others  green 
and  gold.  The  Albanian  jacket  is  worn  with  the 
sleeves  hanging  over  the  shoulder,  like  those  of  our 
Hussars.  How  strange  and  dark  English  dresses  will 
seem  to  me,  after  all  these  brilliant  colors !  How  will 
my  eyes  endure  a  fustian  jacket  and  hideous  English 
hat  or  an  English  villager's  waistcoat,  after  having  been 
so  charmed  with  every  variety  of  picturesque  form 
and  brilliant  color  ?  With  the  beautifully  embroidered 
scarlet  and  gold  jacket,  for  instance,  you  often  see  full 
trousers  of  dark  rich  green,  bound  round  the  waist  by 
a  many-colored  scarf,  into  which  is  stuck  a  richly- 
mounted  yataghan,  or  silver-embossed  pistol  — fre 
quently  both.  The  under-jacket,  or  waistcoat,  is  also 
richly  embroidered,  and  with  a  double  row  of  dead 

(188) 


NEW-YEAR'S  DAY.  189 

gold  buttons.  Three  or  four  rows  of  silver  chain,  just 
like  a  chatelaine,  complete  the  gala  dress  of  a  Greek 
village  beau.  As  it  is  winter,- 1  must  not,  however, 
forget  his  gayly-embroidered  leggings,  which  are  some 
thing  like  the  Indian  moccasin.  His  mustache  is 
perfect,  pointed,  and  the  pride  and  delight  of  his  life. 
A  few  dark  curls  peep  from  under  his  fez,  and  he  toys 
with  his  cigarette  with  the  air  of  a  prince.  Alas  for 
our  village  belles,  if  he  were  but  to  saunter  among 
them  some  sunny  evening !  and  alas  for  the  honest 
fustian  coat  and  ugly  English  hat ! 

The  Greeks  seem  to  be  fond  of  paying  visits  on 
New-Year's  Day.  I  was  greatly  amused,  watching 
from  my  window  different  groups  of  them  winding 
round  the  hill  or  crossing  the  narrow  road  halfway 
down  the  valley.  Some  of  the  women  still  wore  the 
beautiful  Greek  dress,  with  fine  plaits  of  hair  wreathed 
round  their  heads,  or  handkerchiefs  charmingly  put 
on,  the  colored  trimming  so  arranged  as  to  form  a 
chaplet  round  the  brow.  I  must  bring  home  some 
of  this  pretty  trimming,  so  like  leaves  and  flowers. 
But  I  am  sorry  to  say  that  the  national  dress  of  the 
Greek  women  is  disappearing  in  these  parts  much 
more  rapidly  than  that  of  the  men,  and  they  dis 
figure  themselves  sadly  by  aping  English  and  French 
fashions.  I  was  grieved  to  hear  last  autumn  that 
some  caiquejees'  wives  and  daughters  had  made  their 
appearance  at  the  Sweet  Waters  of  Asia  perfect  scare 
crows,  from  an  absurd  attempt  to  copy  the  dress  of 
some  Frenchwoman  whom  they  had  seen  and  ad 
mired.  What  a  pity  that  civilization  should  begin 
the  wrong  way !  In  the  villages,  however,  this  pain 
ful  transition  state  is  not  so  much  seen  as  at  Pera,  and 


190  IN   AND  AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

Orta-kioy  certainly  presented  a  genuine  picture  of 
Eastern  life  on  New- Year's  Day. 

There  was  plenty  of  dancing  and  singing  going  on 
in  the  valley,  if  a  nasal  kind  of  chanting  can  be  called 
singing.  Long  after  midnight  the  wind,  setting  in 
toward  our  hill,  bore  sounds  of  revelry,  and  the 
monotonous  roll  of  a  little  drum,  which  seems  to  be 
the  favorite  accompaniment  of  the  Komaika,  or  Greek 
dance.  The  Greeks  are  a  marvelously  active,  rest 
less  race.  The  night's  revels  are  scarcely  over,  when, 
at  dawn,  the  watchman  chants  to  prayer.  They  shout 
and  gesticulate  almost  as  loudly  in  the  Mass,  as  they 
did  half  an  hour  before  in  the  rude  Eomaika.  I  went 
to  one  of  their  religious  services  some  time  ago,  and 
was  painfully  impressed  with  the  glare  and  tinsel,  and 
the  sensual,  dirty  appearance  of  the  priests,  who  looked 
more  like  robed  brigands  than  any  thing  else. 

The  pictures  of  saints  and  martyrs  are  extremely 
hideous,  nearly  black,  and  barbarously  ornamented 
with  silver  or  tin  hands  and  "  glories."  Those  who 
are  able  to  make  a  rich  offering  will  order  the  entire 
picture  of  a  saint  to  be  covered  with  silver,  except 
the  face,  which  peeps  darkly  through.  The  people 
bend  and  pray  with  extraordinary  reverence  and  de 
votion  before  these  pictures,  many  of  which  are  of 
great  antiquity. 

My  Armenian  neighbors  were  early  at  prayers  on 
New- Year's  morning.  At  a  later  hour  Fuad  and  I 
were  pacing  up  and  down  our  little  trim  garden,  and 
I  gathered  a  few  violets  to  remind  me  of  England.  It 
was  a  lovely  morning,  and  we  watched  three  or  four 
swans  flying  northward ;  and  long  flights  of  cormo 
rants  pursuing  their  way  on  the  opposite  coast,  some- 


AN   ARMENIAN    LETTER.  191 

times  in  straight  lines,  then  in  a  dense  body,  then  in 
the  form  of  an  arrow,  then  in  a  strange  and  fantastic 
manner,  like  a  long  and  undulating  serpent.  Poor 
Simione,  the  mute,  came  to  gather  me  a  few  stray 
flowers  which  the  winter  storms  had  left ;  roses  and 
verbenas  have  lasted  longest  here.  His  mother  looked 
out  from  her  lattice,  smiled,  and  saluted  me  sweetly 
as  usual :  she  has  such  a  mild  and  placid  face.  She 
asked  me  something  by  signs,  but  I  could  not  under 
stand  it,  and  shook  my  head  despondingly,  on  which 
she  sent  Antonio  down  with  a  note  written  in  his 
ever-ready  Italian.  These  little  epistles  amuse  us  so 
much  that  I  preserve  them  carefully,  and  send  you  a 
translation  of  this  morning's. 

"  Dearest  and  illustrious  Lodger : 

"  My  widowed  mother  and  my  sisters  salute 
you  tenderly  and  with  all  their  hearts  on  this  New- 
Year's  morning,  and  your  General  [Antonio  will  per 
sist  in  calling  Edmund,  Signor  Generale].  They  wish 
to  know  if  your  house  pleases  you,  if  you  are  con 
tented,  and  if  they  can  do  any  thing  to  serve  you. 
They  hope  that  the  child  you  love  so  much  is  well, 
and  that  God  may  bless  you  with  great  prosperity. 
They  thank  you  for  the  good  dish  with  which  you 
have  regaled  them.  Always,  dearest  lady,  your  friend 
and  servant,  ANTONIO  ALMIRA." 

I  made  signs  of  thanks,  and  that  I  would  write  a 
further  reply.  They  begged  me  to  walk  into  their 
house,  which  I  did,  admiring  the  dim  old  hall,  with 
an  orange-tree  on  each  side  of  the  foot-worn  steps, 
its  broken  marble  fountain,  trellised  roof,  and  the 


192  IN    AND    AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

quaintly-painted  birds  and  flowers  and  pomegranates, 
on  its  whitewashed  walls. 

The  whole  house  looked  dilapidated  and  dismantled, 
and  every  thing  wore  the  air  of  an  impoverished  and 
decayed  family.  The  divans  and  even  footstools  were 
still  covered  with  black,  as  mourning  for  the  husband 
and  father;  heavy  hangings  to  the  doorways  of  the 
vast  and  numerous  rooms  were  of  the  same  sad  hue ; 
the  only  gay  thing  was  a  picture  of  the  Virgin  and 
Child,  which  was  decked  out  with  flowers  and  tiny 
wax  tapers  in  honor  of  the  New  Year.  Huge  braseros 
stood  in  the  principal  room  of  the  first  suite  of  apart 
ments,  which  is  evidently  that  generally  used  by  the 
family,  and  where  I  always  see  the  sisters  sitting 
at  their  embroidery,  as  I  walk  in  my  garden  ;  but 
there  was  no  fire,  and  my  dear  old  friend  looked  pale 
and  cold  in  her  thin  and  faded  mourning.  I  wrote 
my  note  of  the  kindest  words  I  could  possibly  pen, 
and  we  sat  on  the  divan  admiring  the  lovely  view. 
Far  and  wide,  how  beautiful  every  thing  looked  in 
the  bright  morning  sun !  People  here  learn  to  sit 
quietly,  while  the  eye  roams  about  with  the  keenest 
pleasure. 

I  was  now  served  with  sweetmeats;  Dhudu  and 
poor  Oscu  vying  with  each  other  affectionately  to  do 
me  honor.  Neither  of  them  would  sit  before  their 
mother  and  myself,  on  so  state  an  occasion  as  my  first 
visit.  Antonio  stood  by  my  side,  pencil  in  hand,  by 
the  aid  of  which  and  of  signs  we  kept  up  an  animated 
conversation.  How  little  serves  to  please  when  there 
is  really  the  wish  on  both  sides !  Simione  placed  a 
little  inlaid  table  before  his  mother  and  myself,  and  I 
saw  with  alarm  that  they  intended  to  give  me  a  feast. 


VISIT   TO    AN    ARMENIAN    FAMILY.  193 

First,  Dhudu  handed  sweets,  cherries  delicately  pre 
served,  and  a  rare  old  china  jar  full  of  preserved  rose- 
leaves  from  Persia;  then  Oscu  presented  two  large 
glass  cups  of  water  with  her  thin  pale  hands ;  after 
which  came  delicious  little  cups  of  fragrant  coffee,  and  a 
dish  of  figs  from  Smyrna,  mixed  with  bitter  almonds. 
The  old  lady,  who  seemed  to  take  as  much  affectionate 
pride  in  cramming  me  as  if  I  had  been  a  darling 
schoolboy  home  for  the  holidays,  now  tore  some  of 
the  largest  of  the  figs  open  with  her  fingers,  and, 
stuffing  them  with  the  almonds,  presented  them  to  me 
one  by  one.  You  may  fancy  the  dismay  with  which 
I  was  filled,  on  seeing  the  prompt  and  zealous  prepa 
ration  of  these  boluses.  I  felt  that  I  must  be  ill,  and 
gave  myself  up  for  lost ;  my  situation  was  indeed  so 
ludicrous  that  I  laughed  outright,  and  they  thought 
that  I  was  highly  delighted.  Poor  things  !  they  have 
few  visitors,  and  but  little  to  amuse  their  lonely  life ; 
so  I  considered  that  one  fit  of  indigestion  could  not 
do  me  much  harm,  and  yielded  to  the  fun  and  amuse 
ment  of  the  fete.  How  delighted  the  dear  old  lady 
was  to  please  me !  How  fast  she  peeled  the  oranges, 
and  popped  little  pieces  on  to  the  pounded  sugar  on 
my  plate,  and  helped  me  to  large  pink  slices  of  pre 
served  quince,  and  talked  of  me  to  her  daughters,  and 
patted  my  hand  affectionately ;  Antonio  and  Simione 
looking  on  approvingly  all  the  time,  as  proud  as  if 
they  were  entertaining  a  princess — such  kind  and 
simple  people  are  these !  At  last  I  thought  the  feast 
was  happily  ended ;  but,  alas !  Dhudu  opened  a  fine 
rich-colored  pomegranate,  and,  scooping  out  all  its 
bright  and  shining  seeds,  placed  them,  sprinkled  with 
fine  white  sugar  before  me.  Oh  for  the  enchanted 
17 


194         IN  AND  ABOUND  STAMBOUL. 

cock  of  the  Arabian  Nights'  story,  thought  I,  to  pick 
them  all  up  for  me!  But  my  philosophy  could  go  no 
further ;  I  was  obliged  politely  but  firmly  to  refuse 
both  that  last  dainty  and  also  a  cigarette  made  by  the 
fair  hands  of  Dhudu.  However,  the  ladies  each  took 
one,  and,  smoking  with  great  complacency,  we  had  a 
little  quiet  chat  about  England  and  things  in  general, 
and  then  I  took  my  departure,  amid  much  bowing  and 
many  adieus.  They  all  came  down  to  the  little  garden- 
steps  of  our  door  with  great  ceremony.  I  must  not 
forget  to  tell  you  that  Fuad  was  of  the  party,  kissed 
and  romped  with  by  the  ladies,  and  regaled  with  almost 
as  many  sweets  as  his  mistress,  which  however,  thor 
oughly  Eastern  as  he  is,  seemed  to  afford  him  unmiti 
gated  satisfaction. 

Yassili  is  very  kind  to  my  little  dog,  and  sometimes 
takes  him  into  the  village  for  exercise ;  Fuad  likes 
the  crowded,  narrow  streets  better  than  I  do.  Yassili 
is  certainly  an  oddity ;  he  is  generally  extremely 
gloomy,  and  only  condescends  to  be  cheerful  upon 
rare  occasions.  I  believe  he  seldom  speaks  to  Georgy, 
our  new  and  handsome  sais;  but  his  great  friend  is 
Nicola,  Mr.  Wilkin's  man,  who  has  known  him  for 
years.  Nicola  says  that  Vassili  was  once  very  "  well 
off,"  but  was  robbed  at  Cairo,  by  an  Egyptian,  of 
every  thing  he  had  in  the  world,  which  has  soured  his 
temper  ever  since.  So  whenever  he  looks  more 
gloomy  than  usual,  we  say  that  the  "robbery  in 
Egypt"  is  full  upon  him.  He  has  a  wife  and  four 
children  at  Smyrna,  and  sends  off  his  wages  to  them 
the  moment  he  gets  them.  He  always  asks  if  the 
"  Signoriua"  is  well,  when  he  sees  me  reading  letters 
from  England.  I  thank  him,  and  say  "  Yes."  He 


A   BASHI-BAZOUK.  195 

then  invariably  adds,  in  Italian,  "  Heaven  be  praised ! 
the  young  are  always  charming,"  I  said  one  day  to 
him,  out  of  gratitude  for  his  inquiries,  "  And  how  are 
your  children,  Vassili ;  have  you  heard  from  them 
lately?"  This  offended  his  taciturnity;  he  had  not 
bargained  to  be  so  much  more  gracious  than  usual, 
and  returned  a  snappish  reply  of,  "  Poor  men's  chil 
dren  are  always  well,  and  with  great  appetites." 
Thinking  he  would  be  pleased  to  hear  of  the  Sultan's 
firman  in  favor  of  the  Greeks,  I  told  him  of  it  one 
day  when  he  was  laying  the  cloth ;  but  he  only 
growled  out  from  under  his  black  mustache,  "I  dare 
say  our  Patriarch  has  given  some  pasha  a  heap  of 
money  for  it ;  we  shall  get  nothing  by  it."  Yassili 
takes  to  heart  greatly  the  oppression  and  poverty  of 
his  countrymen,  but  we  think  that  the  robbery  in 
Egypt  is  the  principal  cause  of  his  misanthropy  and 
melancholy.  Vassili  takes  great  delight  in  cooking, 
and  places  a  favorite  dish  upon  the  table  with  a  grim 
look  of  satisfaction.  He  was  quite  in  despair  last 
week  when  Edmund  only  took  invalid's  allowance. 
The  way  in  which  I  always  show  anxiety  is  by  not 
eating ;  and  the  other  day,  when  every  thing  went  away 
untouched,  he  exclaimed  angrily,  "  Che  ha  Vossigno- 
ria,  che  non  mangia  ?"  (What  is  the  matter  with  you, 
ma'am,  that  you  do  not  eat?)  I  took  the  rebuke 
meekly,  and  spoke  of  want  of  exercise,  etc. 

The  other  night  he  asked  leave  of  Edmund  to  bring 
in  a  Bashi-Bazouk,  a  friend  of  his,  who  was  anxious 
to  join  the  Turkish  Contingent  with  a  thousand  men. 
The  Bashi  came  up, — a  fine  savage-looking  fellow,  with 
a  sashful  of  yataghans  and  silver-mounted  pistols.  Mr. 
Wilkin  was  here,  who  speaks  Turkish.  At  first  the 


196  IX   AND   AROUND    STAMBOUL. 

Bashi  would  not  say  a  word.  We  found  this  was  be 
cause  of  Antonio  the  Armenian,  who  was  quietly  sit 
ting  smoking  by  our  stove.  When  he  was  gone,  the 
Bashi  became  eloquent  about  what  his  men  would 
do  and  dare.  Edmund  and  I  thought  it  a  pity  that 
we  had  not  made  the  Bashi's  acquaintance  before  the 
fall  of  Kars,  as  with  another  thousand  such  free 
lances  we  might  have  cut  our  way  to  them  with  a  few 
camel-loads  of  provisions.  As  it  is,  he  has  written  to 
General  Vivian,  now  in  England.  Some  time  ago 
the  Contingent  were  greatly  in  want  of  recruits. 
Yassili  and  Georgy  are  extremely  anxious  about  this 
affair,  and  stood  on  the  stairs  while  the  conference 
lasted  in  our  outer  room.  Espinu  tells  me  that  Vas- 
sili  is  to  have  a  new  coat,  and  Georgy  a  sword,  if  the 
Bashi  and  his  men  are  accepted  by  the  general. 

We  have  often  questions  asked  of  us  by  the  village 
people.  I  found  a  Turk  waiting  in  our  outer  room 
the  other  day,  who  evidently  wished  to  ask  some 
favor.  He  could  not  speak  Italian,  and  Yassili  was 
out ;  so  he  went  away  disappointed.  Another  day  I 
met  him  in  the  garden,  and  then  Yassili  told  me  that 
he  wanted  Edmund  to  write  to  General  Vivian  about 
his  brother  Omar,  a  captain  in  the  Contingent,  who 
had  left  his  family  in  his  charge.  The  wife  was  ill, 
and  pined  to  see  him.  They  were  also  falling  into 
great  poverty  from  her  sickness,  he  having  left  them 
only  a  hundred  piastres  (about  fifteen  shillings)  a 
month.  Edmund  will  do  what  he  can  to  get  Omar 
leave  of  absence. 

The  three  little  Turkish  children  were  brought  to 
see  me  yesterday,  two  boys  and  a  girl,  the  latter  a 
perfect  beauty,  but  dressed  in  pale  lilac  and  yellow 


TURKISH   DECORUM.  197 

gauze, — on  such,  a  cold  day, — embroidered  slippers, 
and  no  stockings.  She  laughed  at  the  few  Turkish 
words  I  was  able  to  speak,  sat  down  with  gravity  on 
the  divan,  and  gave  me  the  kiss  I  asked  for.  We 
then  discussed  a  few  sweetmeats,  and  I  took  her  down 
to  her  uncle,  who  remained  in  the  garden,  no  persua 
sion  having  the  slightest  effect  in  inducing  him  to  enter 
a  lady's  room. 

With  the  old-fashioned  Turks  you  must  be  very 
careful  not  to  offend  their  notions  of  female  delicacy. 
I  used  to  offer  my  hand,  but  they  evidently  think  it 
so  indecorous  that  I  have  left  it  off,  except  to  those 
few  who  have  mixed  with  Europeans.  Dr.  Zohrab 
tells  me  he  has  often  been  sent  for  to  a  great  man's 
sick  wife  or  slave,  and  has  been  shown  a  heap  of 
shawls  lying  upon  a  sofa,  and  told  to  prescribe  for  it : 
in  extreme  cases  only  was  he  allowed  to  see  the  face 
or  touch  the  hand.  These  poor  women  are  almost 
constantly  ailing  from  want  of  air  or  exercise :  the 
higher  their  rank,  the  more  they  are  shut  up.  Bleed 
ing  in  the  arm  and  foot  is  a  common  remedy,  even 
among  the  Armenians.  My  friend  Dhudu  came  limp 
ing  in  from  this  cause  the  other  day :  I  said  to  her 
brother,  in  Italian,  that  a  good  walk  would  have  been 
better  for  her. 

The  minarets  of  the  mosques  here,  and  the  opposite 
ones  of  Kulalee,  were  illuminated  the  night  before 
last  in  celebration  of  Mahomet's  birthday.  It  is  so 
pretty  to  watch  the  wreathe  of  lamps  glittering  in  the 
darkness,  high  in  air. 

But  I  must  say  adieu.  Colonel  Ibor  has  just  come 
down,  and  dinner  will  soon  be  ready.  J  told  you  we 
had  a  flying  visit  from  Mr.  Mansfield,  on  his  way  to 
17* 


198  IN   AN1>   AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

the  Crimea ;  he  stole  a  pot  of  Vassili's  preserves  for 
his  friends  there.  Captain  Giffard  could  not  come,  as 
his  ship  was  to  sail  that  very  day. 

Mr.  Gisborne  has  brought  me  a  beautiful  white  cloak 
(burnous)  from  Cairo.  He  is  delighted  with  Egypt,  at 
least  with  the  country,  antiquities,  and  climate  ;  the 
people  are  as  oppressed  and  as  miserable  as  they  are 
here,  although  a  far  livelier  race. 

Admiral  Slade  is  coming  to  see  us  to-morrow,  so  I 
shall  have  plenty  of  Turkish  news.  The  wind  is  still 
bringing  snow  and  frost  from  the  north;  I  fear 
Edmund  will  not  lose  his  severe  cold  while  it  lasts. 
Love  to  you  all. 


* 


LETTEK    XXIY. 

WINTER   LIFE    ON   THE    BOSPHORUS — ARMENIAN  BISHOP — BILL  OF  FARE — 

THE  PIANO-FORTE CURES  FOR  NEURALGIA WRECKS  FROM  THE  BLACK 

SEA — POOR   JEWS. 

Orta-kioy,  January  29th,  1856. 
My  dearest  Mother : 

You  wish  to  know  what  sort  of  a  life  it  is  on 
the  Bosphorus  in  winter  time.  Mine  is  certainly  a 
strange  one,  and  of  great  extremes,  for  1  am  either 
alone  for  hours  here,  or  in  the  midst  of  crowds  at 
Pera,  when  the  embassadress's  invitations  summon 
me.  Edmund  usually  leaves  home  about  nine  in  the 
morning.  Fuad  and  I  generally  accompany  him  to 
the  pretty  little  stable-yard,  where  there  is  an  ancient- 
looking  well,  and  a  drooping  willow  whose  branches 
wave  to  the  ground.  Our  new  Sais,  a  remarkably 
handsome  Greek,  who,  in  his  rich  embroidery,  looks 
exactly  like  the  portraits  of  Conrad,  in  drawing-room 
copies  of  the  "  Corsair,"  keeps  his  stable  in  the  nicest 
order.  On  saints'  days  and  holidays,  a  pretty  wreath  of 
flowers  is  always  arched  over  the  door.  He  sleeps  there, 
on  a  few  raised  planks,  covered  with  a  quilted  Turkish 
counterpane.  On  a  little  bracket  by  the  side  of  this 
rude  bed  is  an  antique-shaped  pretty  vase  of  flowers ; 
and,  close  by,  hangs  an  instrument  something  like  a 
small  guitar,  on  which  Georgy  plays  of  an  evening  to 
a  select  friend  or  two.  Georgy  takes  vast  pride  in  his 
appearance,  and  loves  his  horses  dearly,  next  only  to 
his  black  Maltese  dog, — an  elfish-looking  beast,  with 

(199) 


200  IN    AND   AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

a  few  red  beads  hung  by  a  stout  string  round  his  neck, 
as  a  charm  against  the  dreaded  "evil  eye." 

Well,  Fuad  and  I  see  them  off,  and  admire  "  Sul 
tan's  "  arched  neck  and  shining  skin.  He  is  what  they 
call  here  a  golden  bay.  Georgy  just  bestows  one 
slight  glance  on  some  Greek  girls  who  are  admiring 
him  from  an  opposite  casement,  and  then,  mounting 
"  Turkish  Johnny,"  gallops  after  his  master,  who  is 
slowly  winding  down  the  hill.  I  wave  my  hand, 
Yassili  snappishly  calls  Fuad  in,  shuts  to  the  gates, 
and  we  are  alone  until  seven  in  the  evening. 

Our  great  mastiff  has  arrived  from  Trebizond.  He 
is  a  magnificent  creature,  and  we  have  named  him 
Arslan,  or  Lion.  I  am  afraid  he  misses  the  liberty  of 
his  free  mountain-life,  and  think  that  both  he  and  I 
feel  rather  like  prisoners,  as  we  pace  up  and  down 
the  tiny  paths  of  our  trim  shawl-pattern  garden. 
Fuad,  full  of  fun  and  frolic,  affords  a  striking  con 
trast  to  his  grave  demeanor  and  gigantic  proportions. 
Arslan  and  Fuad,  looking  out  of  my  window,  would 
make  a  most  amusing  sketch.  Dignified  as  he  is, 
Arslan  does  not  despise  a  morning  lounge  on  the 
divan.  If  Fuad  is  too  frolicsome,  Arslan  holds  him 
down  between  his  huge  paws,  where  he  looks  like  a 
little  white  struggling  mouse.  Sometimes  the  two 
play  together  in  the  most  absurd  manner,  Arslan  tak 
ing  Fuad  up  in  his  mouth  like  a  snowball. 

Nothing  can  be  more  perfect  than  my  solitude  is  at 
times.  You  know  I  have  often  wished  to  be  quite 
alone  for  several  months,  that  I  might  do  what  I  liked 
without  being  disturbed.  Now  I  have  certainly  got 
my  wish.  My  day  is  so  long  that  I  can  afford  to  sit 
on  the  divan  beneath  my  windows,  dreaming  for 


ARMENIAN   BISHOP.  201 

hours,  looking  out  over  the  blue  Bosphorus  and  the 
hills  beyond,  or  noting  all  that  takes  place  in  the  val 
ley  beneath,  and  watching  the  passers-by. 

The  Armenian  bishop  and  his  wife  in  the  latticed 
house  opposite  have  many  visitors ;  they  seem  to  be 
of  the  old  school,  and  the  lady  is  always  closely 
vailed  and  muffled  in  a  feridjee  whenever  she  goes 
out.  I  have  seen  her  twice  in  her  garden,  and  once 
in  the  ruined  garden-plot  beside  it,  "gathering  sim 
ples,"  and  she  then  wears  the  full  trowsers  and  jacket 
of  Eastern  costume.  Yailed  ladies  often  call  at  this 
ancient  house.  After  knocking  at  the  quaintest-look 
ing  old  knocker  in  the  world,  an  old  Armenian  ser 
vitor  admits  them  courteously  into  the  high-walled 
court-yard  ;  and  presently  we,  from  the  divan,  can  see 
their  shadowy  forms  flit  across  the  lattices  of  the  sec 
ond  floor,  evidently  the  women's  apartment.  Robed 
priests  are  also  frequent  visitors,  and  these  are  ad 
mitted  to  the  rooms  on  the  ground  floor,  whence  the 
bishop  himself  often  emerges  to  give  alms  to  a  wan 
dering  pilgrim,  or  to  buy  sweetmeats  of  a  great  friend 
of  Fuad's  and  mine,  who  carries  the  most  delicious 
condiments  about,  on  a  pretty  painted  stand.  There 
are  three  beautiful  children  in  this  house.  Two  little 
boys  play  about  in  the  courtyard,  and  sometimes  the 
nurse  holds  the  baby  above  the  lattice  for  me  to  smile 
and  wave  my  hand  to  it.  We  are  told  that  the  bishop 
wishes  to  make  our  acquaintance,  and  intends  calling 
on  us.  I  should  have  thought  that  our  military  visit 
ors  would  have  rather  puzzled  him ;  for  many  red 
coats  find  their  way  here  on  their  way  to  and  from  the 
Crimea,  and  may  be  often  seen  joining  the  canine 
party  on  the  divan  under  the  window  to  talk  with 


202  IN   AND  AROUND  STAMBOUL. 

delight  of  old  friends,  old  times,  and  news  from  home ; 
all  of  which  must  be  very  shocking  to  Eastern  notions 
of  propriety. 

Vassili's  reputation  has  certainly  caused  an  in 
creased  amount  of  affectionate  attention  from  our 
friends.  Our  little  dinners  are  pronounced  delight 
ful.  Only  fancy  the  treat  of  excellent  soup,  delicious 
red  mullet,  lamb,  and  pistachio-nuts,  ducks  stewed 
with  chestnuts,  and  quails  in  vine-leaves,  to  these 
half-famished  men  of  Asia  Minor  and  the  camp  in 
the  Crimea  !  There  is  some  pleasure  in  being  hostess 
here  in  these  days  of  war  and  famine ;  something 
more  than  giving  a  dinner-party,  in  feeling  that  you 
have  been  feeding  a  favorite  son  or  a  hungry  hus 
band. 

But  to  give  you  an  idea  of  what  an  Englishwoman's 
life  is  here.  After  my  stroll  in  the  garden,  and  gos 
siping  lounge  on  the  divan,  and  feeding  the  Bashi- 
Bazouks,  and  arranging  a  few  flowers,  I  turn  to  the 
poor  old  piano-forte,  which  four  stout  hamals,  directed 
bv  Vassili,  carried  up -stairs  into  the  salaamlik  for  me 
the  other  day.  We  were  fortunate  enough  to  find  a 
young  German  belonging  to  the  Opera  at  Pera,  who 
by  degrees  got  the  poor  instrument  into  something 
like  tune.  I  was  much  amused  at  Dhudu's  explana 
tion  of  its  being  so  much  out  of  order.  I  said  one 
day,  through  Miss  Clara  Barker,  who  was  with  me  : 
"  How  is  it  that  so  new  and  good  an  instrument  is 
so  rusty  and  shaken  ?"  Dhudu  replied,  in  her  quiet, 
gentle  way,  that  some  time  ago  they  were  staying  at 
a  country-house  by  the  seaside,  when  a  fire  broke  out, 
and  they  were  obliged  to  throw  the  piano  out  of  the 
window.  "  It  fell  into  the  sea,"  said  Dhudu,  "  and  has 


LIFE   AT   ORTA-KIOY.  203 

never  been  quite  in  tune  since."  They  are  delighted  to 
have  it  restored,  and  it  is  the  greatest  pleasure  I  have, 
next  to  my  letters,  to  sing  and  play  for  hours,  until 
poor  Fuad,  after  lying  long  and  patiently  at  my  feet, 
can  bear  it  no  longer,  and  sits  up  on  his  hind  legs,  en 
treating  with  his  black  bead-eyes  that  I  will  leave  off. 
Then  I  pace  up  and  down  for  an  hour  or  more  by  way 
of  exercise,  quick  march,  to  circulate  my  blood ;  for 
the  stove  in  the  inner  room  gives  but  little  heat,  and 
the  weather  is  so  piercingly  cold,  that  I  am  obliged, 
whilst  writing  or  singing,  to  wear  Edmund's  tiger- 
skin.  How  you  would  laugh  to  see  me,  with  the  paws 
crossed  over  my  shoulders,  sitting  alone  so  silently 
that  the  little  bright-eyed  mice  come  out  fearlessly  to 
eat  bread  and  milk  out  of  Fuad's  saucer  by  the 
window ! 

The  kitchen  is  in  the  garden,  and  quite  away  from 
the  house.  On  snowy  days  our  hall-door  is  closed ; 
and  when  the  little  Greek  maid,  whom  Mrs.  Barker 
kindly  lends  me  for  an  hour  or  two  in  a  morning,  is 
gone,  I  pace  up  and  down,  as  lonely  as  Mariana  in 
the  moated  grange.  Toward  evening  Yassili  comes 
in  with  a  replenished  basket  of  wood  for  the  stove, 
which  he  puts  in  silently.  This  quiet  life  seems  to 
suit  him  well.  He  told  me  the  other  day  that  the 
Armenian  lady  had  asked  him  how  I  passed  my  time, 
so  much  alone  as  I  was:  he  replied,  "Scrive  e 
legge,  legge  e  scrive,"  (She  writes  and  reads,  and 
reads  and  writes.)  This  made  the  dear  old  lady  very 
uneasy  about  me  ;  and  this  morning  she  paid  me  a 
long  visit,  with  Antonio),  whose  fine  dark  eyes  were 
full  of  anxious  kindness,  as  he  wrote  in  Italian,  en 
treaties  that  I  would  take  more  care  of  myself,  and 


204  IN   AND   AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

that  I  would  consent  to  see  the  Imaum  of  the  mosque 
here,  in  order  to  cure  my  neuralgia.  They  consider 
him,  of  course,  an  "  idolater,"  wrote  Antonio,  but  fully 
believe  that  he  possesses  the  art  of  charming  away 
pain  by  passing  his  fingers  over  the  part  affected. 
The  old  lady  illustrated  his  treatment  by  pressing  her 
fingers  down  the  side  of  my  head  and  throat,  where  I 
have  lately  suffered  acute  pain.  It  certainly  relieved 
me  very  much,  and  from  the  extraordinary  cures 
which  she  tells  me  the  Imaum  has  performed,  I  should 
think  the  Turks  are  good  mesmerists.  However,  I 
did  not  promise  to  try  either  this  remedy,  or  the  usual 
infallible  Mussulman  medicine,  of  a  verse  of  the 
Koran  inscribed  on  a  slip  of  paper  and  dissolved 
in  water.  My  kind  neighbor's  sympathy  did  me 
great  good,  and  I  believe  that  a  fireplace,  and  good 
stone-walls,  instead  of  thin  planks,  would  do  still 
more. 

The  weather  has  been  very  severe.  I  often  see,  in 
a  morning,  mere  hulls  of  vessels  towed  down  from 
the  Black  Sea — rigging,  masts,  all  swept  away.  The 
cold  of  the  East  is  sharp  and  pinching — just  as  if  old 
Winter  had  caught  you  between  his  finger  and  thumb. 
How  the  poor  must  suffer  in  this  miserable  valley  !  I 
often  look,  in  a  morning,  to  see  if  the  tents  in  the 
ruins  are  still  standing  among  the  pools  of  mud  and 
water,  and  think  with  horror  that  they  are  the  only 
shelter  of  many  children,  and  even  babies.  A  few 
wretched  wooden  houses  are  inhabited  only  by  Jews  : 
the  casements  are  still  unfinished,  and  the  famished 
and  dripping  wild- dogs  prowl  in  and  out  at  their  plea 
sure.  On  Friday  evenings  these  poor  Jew  people  light 
little  lamps  for  their  expected  Messiah ;  they  flicker 


EVENING.  205 

faintly  over  a  scene  of  wretchedness  such  as  only  an 
Eastern  village  can  show. 

But  I  must  say  adieu.  The  twilight  is  short  here, 
and  the  Muezzin  is  calling  the  faithful  to  evening 
prayer.  My  little  stove  is  burning  brightly,  my  kettle 
singing  its  usual  merry  tune,  my  birds  settling  to 
roost,  and  Fuad  wetching  for  his  master's  return.  So 
you  see  how  cheerful  I  am  after  all. 
18 


LETTER    XXV. 

GOING    TO    A    BALI THE    TELEKI JOURNEY     TO    PERA MONUMENTS 

ADMINISTRATION — DOLMA    BATCHE BAD    ROADS CEMETERY    AT   PERA 

CYPRESSES SOLDIERS ILLUMINATIONS BALL    AT    THE    EMBASSY 

THE     SULTAN CHIEF     OF     THE     EUNUCHS A    BEAR     AT    THE     BALL — 

ESPINU'S    ENTHUSIASM. 

Orta-kioy,  February  8th,  1856. 

My  dearest  Mother : 

Going  to  a  ball  from  a  village  near  Constanti 
nople  is  a  very  different  thing  to  going  to  one  in 
England,  as  you  may  suppose.  Edmund  had  directed 
our  two  caiquejees  to  be  ready  by  four  o'clock,  to  take 
me  in  to  Pera,  but  by  noon  a  tremendous  north  wind 
came  rushing  down  from  the  Black  Sea,  and  the  Bos- 
phorus  was  soon  lashed  into  fury. 

Of  course  a  caique  was  now  quite  out  of  the  ques 
tion,  even  to  me,  who  glory  in  a  good  rough  sea ;  so, 
after  a  short  consultation,  Vassili  sallied  forth  into  the 
village  in  search  of  an  araba,  or  teleki,  and  after  an 
immense  amount  of  bargaining  and  disputing,  the  di 
lapidated  affair  (which  we  had  often  seen  moldering 
in  a  ruined  outhouse)  was  announced  as  likely  to  be 
ready  to  take  me  to  Pera  within  half  an  hour. 

After  many  difficulties,  my  Spanish  dress  was  fin 
ished  to  perfection.  The  difficulty,  of  my  little  Greek 
maid  being  too  young  and  too  pretty  to  be  left  for  many 
hours  alone  in  a  palace,  was  got  over  by  Mrs.  Barker 
most  kindly  offering  to  lend  one  of  her  servants. 
Espinu  was  delighted,  and  an  object  of  the  greatest 
(206) 


THE   TELEKI.  207 

envy  to  Nicoletta  and  the  rest  of  the  servants  in  the 
dark-red  Turkish  house  above  us. 

Espinu  speaks  only  Greek,  of  which  I  know  but  a 
few  words,  so,  as  you  may  imagine,  I  should  have  in 
finitely  preferred  Nicoletta,  who  speaks  Italian.  How 
ever,  if  not  useful  to  me,  Espinu  was  at  least  highly 
ornamental.  She  is  really  a  very  handsome  woman  ; 
and  all  her  little  finery  was  displayed  on  this  occasion. 
A  dress  of  bright- green  silk  and  gold  bracelets,  a  fez 
on  her  head,  with  the  thick  purple  tassel  combed  down 
all  over  it,  and  bound  round  by  two  immense  plaits  of 
splendid  black  hair,  a  gayly- embroidered  handkerchief 
round  her  neck,  very  prettily  put  on — in  fact,  quite  a 
saint's-day  toilet. 

How  I  laughed  when  the  crazy  teleki  came  to  the 
door  !  Imagine  a  very  dirty,  tawdry,  diminutive  Lord 
Mayor's  coach,  or  a  halfpenny  edition  of  Cinderella's 
pumpkin,  with  two  most  wretched  white  horses  tied  to 
it  by  a  strange  entanglement  of  leather  thongs  and 
rope.  A  "  charm,"  of  blue  and  red  beads,  against  the 
"  evil  eye,"  hung  round  the  neck  of  each  of  these  poor 
animals,  whose  appearance  certainly  was  far  more 
likely  to  inspire  feelings  of  pity  than  of  envy.  "  Are 
we  to  carry  the  horses,  or  are  they  to  carry  us  ?"  said 
I  to  Vassili,  as  I  stood  with  the  magnificent  Espinu  at 
the  gate.  The  Greek  driver  laughed  heartily  on  this 
being  translated  to  him,  but  declared  that  his  cattle 
would  do  the  journey  well.  Having  got  the  vehicle, 
the  next  difficulty  to  be  overcome  was  how  to  get  into 
it.  No  step,  no  door !  I  saw  with  dismay  that  Es 
pinu  and  I  (neither  of  us  at  all  in  the  fairy  style)  must 
inevitably  take  a  flying  leap  through  the  window, 
which  was  obligingly  opened  for  us.  I  must  say  that 


208  IN   AND   ABOUND   STAMBOUL. 

my  heart  rather  misgave  me  for  a  moment,  especially 
as  I  saw  the  Armenian  bishop's  eyes  gleaming  through 
the  opposite  lattice  ;  but  presently  taking  shame  to 
myself  that  an  Englishwoman  should  quail  at  any 
thing,  and  invoking  the  spirit  of  the  clown  I  had  seen 
so  cheerfully  risk  his  neck  in  the  last  pantomime,  I 
tucked  up  my  petticoats  as  high  as  consideration  for 
the  Armenian  bishop  would  permit,  and  one  spring 
from  the  loose  stone  at  our  door  settled  me  comfort 
ably  on  "  all-fours"  at  the  bottom  of  the  teleki,  with 
no  other  injury  than  a  slight  knock  on  the  head. 
Espinu  was  still  more  fortunate,  for  her  husband, 
Nicola,  came  down  to  see  her  off,  and  giving  several 
efficient  "  shoves"  in  the  midst  of  his  adieus,  she  was 
soon  packed  by  my  side. 

Vassili  then  put  the  portmanteau  and  Edmund's 
cocked-hat  case  and  sword  upon  the  opposite  seat,  the 
Greek  driver  seized  the  tattered  reins,  yelled  in 
the  most  frightful  manner  at  his  horses,  and  off  we 
started. 

Jolt  No.  1  knocked  our  two  heads  together ;  No.  2 
nearly  sent  us  through  the  glass  in  front ;  No.  3,  down 
came  the  cocked-hat  case  into  my  lap  ;  No.  3,  down 
went  the  portmanteau  upon  our  feet.  At  first  we 
tried  to  recover  the  things  and  put  them  into  the  seat 
again ;  but  some  fearful  swayings  to  and  fro  and 
bump  ings  in  going  down  the  hill,  soon  made  us  re 
gardless  of  every  thing  but  holding  fast,  and  saving 
our  heads  as  much  as  possible. 

The  shaking  we  suffered  was  really  something 
frightful.  Every  now  and  then  you  think  that  nothing 
can  possibly  prevent  the  whole  concern  from  toppling 
over.  You  say  to  yourself,  "  Is  it  possible  that  we  are 


BESH1CKTASH  209 

going  over  those  enormous  stones,  or  round  that  fright 
fully  unprotected  corner,  or  through  that  sea  of  mud  ?" 
You  think,  "  Well,  we  must  be  over  now !"  but  crash 
gees  the  painted,  crazy  thing,  destitute  of  springs,  over 
immense  holes,  then  perhaps  over  half-a-dozen  huge, 
loose  pavrng-stones,  again  wallows  into  another  hole, 
feet  deep  in  mud,  and  then  hangs  all  on  one  side,  like 
a  fly  on  a  precipice;  the  horses  being  frequently 
twisted  round,  so  that  you  cannot  see  them  or  the 
driver,  who  is  generally  on  foot  and  hanging  on  to  the 
reins  somewhere.  Our  carriage  had,  however,  once 
been  very  gorgeous,  a  deliciously  barbarous  represen 
tation  of  the  Bosphorus  being  daubed  over  its  roof, 
and  yellow  satin  curtains  festooned  round  the  door- 
window;  this,  being  intended  for  the  shrouding  of 
Turkish  beauty,  was  so  cunningly  and  jealously  con 
trived,  that  we  had  to  stoop  very  low  to  look  out.  The 
guards  at  the  Sultan's  palace  stared,  as  they  always 
do,  to  see  an  Englishwoman  in  a  teleki. 

It  was  a  very  fine  day,  and  all  Beshicktash  seemed 
abroad.  I  suppose  the  Sultan  was  making  some  pres 
ents  for  I  saw  several  black  slaves  coming  out  of 
the  palace  with  trays  upon  their  heads,  covered  with 
embroidered  muslin,  just  as  they  were  in  the  days 
of  the  Arabian  Nights.  By  the  fountain  was  a  great 
crowd ;  and  among  noisy  and  laughing  Greeks  and 
the  usual  motley  groups  one  sees  so  constantly  in 
this  country,  the  Turks  were  even  condescending  to 
look  interested  at  a  little  spring-cart  containing  three 
French  soldiers,  en  route  to  the  French  camp  at  Mash- 
lack.  I  really  think  that  I  was  as  delighted  to  see  this 
triumph  of  civilization  and  springs  as  the  admiring 
crowd  who  shouted  after  it.  We  had  a  cart  here  the 
18* 


210  IN    AND   AROUND    STAMBOL'L. 

other  day,  by-the-by,  and  the  whole  village  was  in  a 
state  of  commotion.  I  rushed  to  the  window  to  see 
what  it  was  all  about,  and  felt  proud  of  my  country 
when  I  beheld  the  vehicle  with  its  perfectly  round 
wheels  winding  its  way  with" comparative  facility  over 
the  ruts  and  stones  of  our  village  road. 

Notwithstanding,  however,  our  shaking,  we  reached 
Beshicktash  without  any  accident  of  moment.  Here 
I  noticed  a  charming  little  store  of  pottery,  which  I  in 
tend  to  visit  some  day,  and  spend  no  end  of  piastres  in. 
The  vessels  of  clay  in  general  use  are  really  charming, 
from  the  monster  and  griffin  style,  which  is  manufac 
tured  at  the  Dardanelles,  to  the  classical  and  elegant 
shapes  which  still  hold  oil,  wine,  and  water  for  the 
Greeks.  I  intend  to  bring  home  an  immense  hamper 
.of  these :  few  of  them  cost  more  than  three  or  four 
piastres.  I  was  greatly  taken  with  the  huge  oil-vases, 
and  thought  instantly  of  Morgiana  and  the  Forty 
Thieves  ;  they  are  quite  large  enough  to  hold  a  man. 
It  is  a  delightful  thing  here  to  find  that  Time  has  not 
swept  away  all  the  pretty  things  of  the  Arabian 
Nights.  Even  the  large  silver  basins  containing 
covered  dishes  and  plates,  cups,  etc.,  which  the  Genii 
bring  on  their  heads  to  Aladdin,  are  still  to  be  seen, 
and  bought. 

The  tomb  of  Barbarossa  exists  in  an  excellent  state 
of  preservation  in  this  village.  Very  near  it  are  two 
huge  Koman  sarcophagi.  The  Turks  care  not  a  straw 
for  "  remains"  or  antiquities  of  any  kind,  so  no  care 
whatever  is  bestowed  on  either.  I  shall  endeavor  to 
bring  home  a  good  sketch  of  these  interesting  tombs, 
but  fear  that  the  inscriptions  are  too  much  erased  for 
even  the  learned  in  such  matters  to  make  any  thing 


DOLMA   BATCHE.  211 

out  of  them.  It  was  most  pleasant,  on  nearing  the 
Sultan's  new  palace,  to  find  ourselves  rolling  smoothly 
over  an  excellent  road,  with  a  causeway  for  foot-pas 
sengers,  an  avenue  planted,  and  lamp -posts  all  ready 
for  the  gas  which  is  to  come :  all  honor  to  Abdul 
Medjid !  What  a  relief  it  was  to  leave  off  clinging  like 
cats  or  monkeys,  and  to  sit  still  and  look  about  us  like 
rational  beings !  The  Greek  mounted  the  rickety 
piece  of  wood  pertaining  to  the  driver,  Yassili  placed 
himself  complacently  by  his  side,  the  white  horses 
were  got  into  an  almost  even  trot,  and  it  is  difficult  for 
you  English  people,  spoiled  with  every  comfort,  to 
imagine  the  enjoyment  which  that  small  piece  of  road 
was  to  all  of  us.  Espinu  kept  laughing  with  delight, 
and  crying  out  "  Buono,  buono !"  I  tried  to  make  her 
understand  that  in  England  all  the  roads  were  like 

O 

this :  but  although  she  was  very  polite  about  the  mat 
ter,  it  was  quite  evident  to  see  she  could  not  "take  it 
in."  When  we  came  to  the  new  palace,  "Dolma 
Batche,"  as  it  is  called,  there  were  between  twenty  and 
thirty  caparisoned  horses  standing  by  the  beautiful 
white  marble  gateway,  through  which  you  see  the 
waters  of  the  Bosphorus,  and  a  lovely  glimpse  of  the 
hills  beyond.  A  crowd  of  vailed  women,  lame,  halt, 
and  blind,  were  dispersing.  These  always  haunt  the 
Sultan,  both  when  he  goes  to  mosque,  and  when  he 
pays  his  almost  daily  visits  to  Dolma  Batche,  to  watch 
the  progress  of  the  building.  A  Turkish  officer  rides 
close  behind  the  Sultan,  and  this  "official"  carries  a 
bag  filled  with  small  silver  coin  (gold  on  great  occa 
sions),  and  a  portfolio  to  receive  petitions,  which  can 
only,  and  as  a  matter  of  precaution,  be  presented  to 
the  Sultan  by  women.  These  are  frequently  seen 


212  IN    AND    AROUND    STAMBOLIL. 

catching  at  his  stirrup,  at  least  when  they  can  ap 
proach  near  enough.  You  may  suppose  what,  a 
scramble  there  is  for  the  silver,  when  it  is  thrown. 
The  Sultan  has  a  very  kind  heart,  and  always  makes 
one  of  his  retinue  see  that  the  blind  are  cared  for  first 
of  all.  When  he  receives  a  petition,  he  hands  it  to  the 
officer  of  the  portfolio,  whose  business  it  is  to  read  it, 
and  subsequently  to  place  it  before  the  Sultan  if  worthy 
of  notice,  returning  a  civil  answer  to  those  which  are 
not.  This  office,  like  all  that  is  theoretically  good  in 
Turkey,  is  sadly  abused.  It  is  not  very  often,  how 
ever,  that  such  abuses  are  discovered,  or  if  discovered, 
punished;  but  the  following  instance  is  worthy  of 
record. 

A  few  months  ago  a  gross  act  of  injustice  and  op 
pression  had  been  perpetrated  on  a  Turk,  either  by  a 
cadi  or  a  pasha,  I  do  not  remember  which,  and  it  does 
not  much  matter,  for  one  is  generally  about  as  bad  as 
the  other.  The  poor  Turk,  on  the  verge  of  ruin,  with 
no  hope  of  either  law  or  justice,  except  such  as  might 
spring  from  a  direct  appeal  to  the  Sultan,  found  means 
to  present  a  petition:  it  met  with  no  reply.  After 
some  time  he  ventured  upon  another,  but  that,  and  a 
third  also,  remained  unnoticed.  Had  the  Turk  been 
friendless,  no  doubt  his  petitions  would  have  been  for 
gotten  as  many  sad  ones  had  been  before,  and  his  cry 
for  mercy  would  never  have  been  heard  in  this  world ; 
but  fortunately  he  had  a  friend  who  was  on  intimate 
terms  with  a  pasha.  The  pasha  found  an  opportu 
nity  of  mentioning  the  three  petitions  to  the  Sul 
tan,  who  had  never  seen  one  of  them,  the  officer  no 
doubt  having  been  bribed  by  the  offending  party 
not  to  place  them  in  his  hands.  It  was  afterward 


BAD    ROADri.  213 

found  that  lie  had  done  this  on  many  occasions, 
and  had  refused  a  favorable  answer  from  the  Sultan 
to  those  who  could  not  afford  him  a  "  bakshish."  The 
Sultan  behaved  as  well  as  he  always  seems  to  do 
on  those  rare  occasions  when  he  hears  the  truth : 
he  saw  justice  done  to  the  poor  Turk,  and  dismissed 
his  officer.  This  you  may  rely  on  as  perfectly  true. 

After  passing  Dolma  Batche  the  shaking  was  more 
terrible  than  ever.  The  road  takes  a  sudden  turn  up 
a  tremendous  hill,  and  is  formed  of  what  we  call  kerb 
stones,  'thrown  down  in  the  middle  of  a  field.  Half 
way  up  the  ascent,  the  river  is  like  a  scene  of  en 
chantment  ;  the  Sultan's  white  marble  palace,  the 
glittering  Bosphorus,  the  Asian  hills,  the  cypress-trees, 
and  minarets  of  different  villages  lie  below  you ;  and 
when,  by  great  good  luck,  your  teleki  has  arrived  at 
the  summit  without  toppling  over,  the  Sea  of  Marmora 
and  the  mountains  in  the  distance,  and,  nearer,  the 
beautiful  cliffs  of  Scutari,  charm  you  completely  into 
forgetfulness  of  the  shaking  and  bruises  which  you 
have  received.  Below,  to  the  right,  a  cheerful  glimpse 
of  a  new  road  which  the  Sultan  is  making  from  Dolma 
Batche  quite  into  Pera,  may  be  caught.  This  ap 
proach  to  the  town  will  be  an  immense  comfort  to  all, 
especially  to  Europeans.  The  inspection  of  this  road, 
and  of  the  progress  which  is  being  made  in  his  New 
Palace,  seems  to  be  the  Sultan's  only  pleasure  and 
delight.  Edmund  often  meets  him  riding  rapidly 
back  to  Beshicktash,  to  avoid  the  dusk  of  the  even 
ing,  with  his  poor,  ragged,  badly-mounted  Lancers 
clattering  after  him. 

But  I  am  afraid  that  I  am  a  very  wandering  letter- 
writer.  I  was  at  the  top  of  the  hill,  with  the  glit- 


214  IX    AND   AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

tering  sea  before  me,  and  on  it  many  ships  of  war, 
and  the  usual  wild-looking  Greek  feluccas,  and  nights 
of  snow-white  gulls,  when  I  stopped  to  tell  you  about 
the  Sultan's  new  road  from  Dolma  Batche.  A  few  more 
jolts  over  still  larger  and  looser  stones,  brought  our 
carriage  suddenly  into  the  thick  shade  of  the  cypress- 
trees  of  the  "  Grand  Champ  des  Morts."  What  a 
vast  place  it  is,  and  how  truly  magnificent  are  its 
funereal  trees !  You  know  those  large  poplars  in 
Weybridge  churchyard:  fancy  the  effect  of  a  forest 
of  such  as  these,  with  innumerable  turbaned  stones — 
some  slanting  forward,  some  upright,  some  fallen  on 
the  ground — beneath  these  huge  bare  steins.  The  eye 
follows  with  awe  many  a  winding,  rugged  pathway 
through  this  silent  forest  of  the  dead,  and  is  some 
times  startled  by  seeing  a  moving  turban  gliding 
slowly  away  in  the  distance ;  for  these  pathways  lead 
to  various  parts  of  Pera,  just  as  the  different  roads  in 
our  parks  lead  to  different  parts  of  London.  As  I  told 
you  in  a  former  letter,  the  Pera  side  of  this  cypress- 
wood  is  much  frequented,  and  is  untidy,  dirty,  and 
noisy ;  but  on  this  side,  all  is  as  silent  as,  according 
to  our  ideas,  Eastern  sepulchres  should  be  ;  and  a 
vailed  Turkish  woman  stealing  noiselessly  along,  or 
telling  her  beads  on  an  ancient  wayside  stone,  as  I  saw 
one,  adds  to  the  solemn  beauty  and  irnpressiveness  of 
the  scene.  Many  of  the  stones  seem  to  be  of  great 
antiquity  ;  the  inscriptions,  in  bas-relief,  are  rapidly 
crumbling  away,  and  the  carved  flowers  and  leaves 
are  almost  obliterated,  even  under  that  thick  and  con 
stant  shelter.  But  every  now  and  then  you  come  upon 
a  fresh  and  splendid  group,  which  is  almost  startling 
in  the  sombre  light,  and  the  hush  around  you.  I  saw 


CYPRESSES.  215 

several  painted  a  brilliant  blue,  and   richly  gilt.     A 
family  party  looks  extremely  well,  with  the  white-tur- 
baned   husband-stone  at   the   top  (of   a  square  flag 
stone)  ;    and   the   lady-stone,    shorter,    and   fashioned 
into  something  like  an  upright  leaf,  at  the  bottom ; 
with  perhaps  three  or   four  demure  children -stones, 
ranged  on  either  side  in  their  little  turbans ;  but  I 
must  bring  home  a  sketch  of  Preziosa's.     He  has  a 
most  exquisite  one,  of  a  group  of  those  tombs,  in  the 
midst  of   which  a  lamp  is   burning   in  the   deepest 
cypress  gloom ;  and  has,  it  is  said,  never  been  extin 
guished  for  more  than  three  centuries.     What  trav 
elers  have  said  of  women  having  no  monuments,  you 
see,  is  not  true.     There  are  quite  as  many  women's 
stones  as  men's,  both  here  and  at  Scutari,  and  in  all 
the  Asian   villages  where  I  have   been.     Sometimes 
there  are  two  or  three  of  these  leaf-shaped  women's 
stones  in  a  family  group,  generally  having  a  rose  or 
a   pomegranate-flower   carved   upon   them,  but  they 
never  of  course  have  either  turban  or  fez.     By-the- 
by,  the  modern  red  fez,  with  its  purple  tassel,  looks 
very  ugly  amid  the  fine  turbans  of  the  olden  time. 

Suddenly  emerging  from  these  ancient  cyrpresses 
and  monumental  stones,  and  finding  yourself  in  all 
the  noise,  bustle,  dirt,  and  confusion  of  Pera,  gives 
one  the  sensation  of  having  overstepped  three  or  four 
centuries.  From  thoughts  of  ancient  Byzantium,  and 
of  the  long  rule  of  the  Osmanlies,  brought  most  forci 
bly  before  the  mind  by  these  solemn  acres  of  tur- 
baned-stones  representing  them,  three  lurches  of  your 
teleki  place  before  you  the  whole  story  of  the  present 
war.  English,  French,  Sardinian,  and  German  officers 
and  soldiers  are  seen  at  every  turn,  and  loud  are  the 


216  IN   AND   AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

fraternizing  songs  which  burst  every  now  and  then 
from  the  khans  or  cafes.  It  is  very  amusing  to  note 
the  look  of  quiet  amazement  with  which  the  Turks 
regard  the  noisy  merriment  and  enthusiasm  of  our 
soldiers  and  sailors.  They  calmly  puff  on,  in  their 
cloud  of  smoke,  while  Jack  is  singing  or  speechifying 
at  the  top  of  his  voice,  forgetting  that  not  one  word  of 
his  eloquence  is  understood  by  his  wondering  neigh 
bor.  It  is  curious  that  Jack  can  never  rid  himself  of 
the  idea  that  foreigners  could  understand  what  he 
says  to  them  if  they  only  would.  "  Come,  don't  be 
disagreeable,"  (in  the  most  persuasive  tone)  ;  "  let's  be 
jolly  I"  accompanied  by  an  affectionate  pat  on  the 
back,  is  a  favorite  way  of  " coaxing"  some  magnifi 
cent  Turk  into  mirth  and  conversation. 

There  was  a  stir  of  quite  an  unusual  kind  in  Pera, 
on  the  afternoon  of  the  ball.  People  looked  more 
inclined  to  loiter,  and  were  more  curious  than  usual. 
The  Greeks  were  conversing  in  groups ;  unusual 
numbers  of  troops  were  moving  about ;  trays  of 
bouquets  were  being  rapidly  conveyed  hither  and 
thither ;  sedan-chairs  were  evidently  in  great  request, 
no  doubt  for  the  purpose  of  paying  frantic  visits  to 
late  milliners  or  dawdling  dressmakers ;  and  mounted 
pashas,  looking  graver  and  more  important  than  ever, 
forced  their  way  along  with  their  usual  train  of  pipe- 
bearers  and  cavasses,  only  just  betraying  the  slight 
est  possible  touch  of  the  "  flurry"  and  excitement  in 
which  the  whole  of  Pera  was  plunged. 

When  I  arrived  at  the  palace,  Mr.  Doria  (one  of  the 
attaches)  was  finishing  his  inspection  of  the  illumina 
tions,  which  had  been  entrusted  by  Lady  Stratford  de 
Kedcliffe  to  his  care.  The  words,  or  rather  names,  of 


THE  SULTAN  AT  THE  BALL.         217 

"Abdul  Mecljid"  and  "Victoria"  were  to  greet  the 
Sultan's  eyes,  hanging,  as  it  were,  on  air  across  the 
court.  The  Turks  excel  in  this  mode  of  illumination 
at  the  feasts  of  Bairam  and  Eamazan,  linking  minaret 
to  minaret  by  wreaths  and  devices  of  lights.  The 
whole  of  the  palace  was  brilliantly  illuminated.  The 
court-yard  was  a  blaze  of  light,  and  lined  with  the 
horse  and  foot  Artillery,  and  two  companies  of  Grena 
diers  and  Highlanders.  I  had  just  finished  dressing 
when  the  roar  of  cannon  began,  announcing  that  the 
Sultan  had  left  his  palace  at  Beshicktash.  Mistress 
Espinu  was  quite  frantic  as  to  her  chance  of  seeing 
the  sultan  ;  and  being  constantly  employed  in  climb 
ing  up  at  the  windows  to  watch  for  him,  and  at  the 
same  time  to  admire  the  illuminations,  she  was  cer 
tainly  of  no  very  particular  use  to  me.  Most  fortu 
nately  an  Italian  was  in  the  palace,  who  dressed  my 
hair  beautifully,  and,  having  been  in  Spain,  adjusted 
my  mantilla  and  damask  roses  to  perfection.  This 
was  certainly  a  most  exciting  moment;  the  cannon 
roared  away,  and  every  one  was  on  the  tiptoe  of  ex 
pectation.  In  a  few  minutes  the  guns  left  off  firing, 
and  then  I  knew,  by  the  band  playing  "  God  save  the 
Queen,"  that  the  sultan  had  arrived.  As  to  Espinu, 
she  was  so  excited  with  the  illuminations,  and  the 
cannon,  and  the  soldiers,  and  the  music,  that  I  wonder 
the  sultan  did  not  tumble  over  her  prostrate  form  on 
his  entrance. 

The  sultan  had,  with  very  good  taste,  left  his  own 
guard  at  the  Galata  Serai,  and  was  escorted  thence 
to  the  palace  by  a  company  of  English  Lancers,  every 
other  man  carrying  a  torch.  Lord  Stratford  and  his 
staff,  of  course,  met  him  at  the  carriage-door,  and  as 
19 


218  IN   AND   ABOUND  STAMBOUL. 

he  alighted,  a  communication  by  means  of  galvanic 
wires  was  made  to  the  fleet,  who  saluted  him  with 
prolonged  salvos  of  cannon.  Lady  Stratford  and  her 
daughters  received  him  at  the  head  of  the  staircase. 
Then,  after  the  usual  royal  fashion,  his  majesty  re 
tired  to  one  of  the  smaller  drawing-rooms,  to  repose 
himself  a  little  after  his  jolting.  I  never  shall  forget 
the  splendid  scene  when  we  entered  the  ball-room. 
Any  thing  more  beautiful  it  would  be  difficult  even 


to  imagine. 


Lady  Stratford  de  Redcliffe,  in  a  costume  of  the 
early  part  of  the  reign  of  George  III.,  was  standing 
about  the  middle  of  the  room,  surrounded  by  and 
receiving  a  most  brilliant  throng.  Her  crown  of 
diamonds,  her  powder  and  pink  roses,  became  her 
well.  Miss  Canning  was  dressed  in  the  flowing  white 
robes  and  oak-leaf  crown  of  a  Druidess ;  Miss  Cathe 
rine,  as  Mary  Queen  of  Scots.  Mr.  Odo  Russel,  first 
attache',  looked  his  ancestor,  the  Lord  William  Kus- 
sell,  to  perfection.  His  dress  was  black  velvet ;  a 
white  plumed  hat,  fastened  with  brilliants ;  a  point- 
lace  collar,  and  below  that  a  splendid  collar  of  dia 
monds.  Mr.  Doria  was  an  Exquisite  of  Queen  Anne's 
time,  in  a  purple  velvet  coat,  lined  with  figured  satin ; 
diamond  shoe-buckles,  snuff-box,  and  every  thing  per 
fect,  from  patch  to  bow ;  Captain  and  Mrs.  Mansfield 
in  most  tastful  dresses  of  the  same  date ;  one  longed  to 
pop  them  under  glass-cases,  one  at  each  end  of  the 
mantle-piece.  It  would  take  me  a  day  to  enumerate 
half  the  costumes.  But  every  one  who  had  been,  to 
tha  Queen's  lals  costumes,  agreed  that  they  did  not 
approach  this  one  in  magnificence;  for  besides  the 
gathering  of  French,  Sardinian,  and  English  officers, 


FANCY  BALL  AT  THE  EMBASSY.       219 

the  people  of  the  country  appeared  in  their  own 
superb  and  varied  costumes.  The  Greek  Patriarch, 
the  Armenian  Archbishop,  the  Jewish  High  Priest, 
were  there,  in  their  robes  of  state.  Eeal  Persians, 
Albanians,  Kourds,  Servians,  Armenians,  Greeks, 
Turks,  Austrians,  Sardinians,  Italians,  and  Spaniards, 
were  there  in  their  different  dresses,  and  many  wore 
their  jeweled  arms.  Some  of  the  Greek  yataghans 
and  pistols  were  splendid.  Two  Jewish  ladies  were 
almost  covered  with  diamonds.  There  were  Fakirs, 
and  Pilgrims,  and  Knights  in  real  chain-armor,  and 
Dervishes,  and  Maltese  ladies,  and  Roman  Empresses, 
English  Shepherdesses,  and  Persian  Princesses,  and 
Turkish  ladies  without  their  vails.  Of  course,  there 
were  also  the  usual  oddities  of  a  fancy  ball ;  there 
was  a  Negro  king,  dressed  in  white  and  red  feathers, 
and  two  gentlemanly  Devils  in  black  velvet,  who 
waltzed  with  their  long  forked  tails  twined  gracefully 
under  their  arms.  Italian  Bravos  and  Princes,  Span 
ish  Dons  and  Brigands,  were  of  course  plentiful.  In 
fact,  every  costume  in  the  known  world  was  to  be 
met  with:  queens  and  shepherdesses;  emperors  and 
caiquejees ;  Crimean  heroes,  embassadors,  attaches, 
and  diplomatists.  The  flash  of  diamonds  was  some 
thing  wonderful,  especially  among  the  Armenians  and 
Greeks,  who  pride  themselves,  when  wealthy,  on  the 
splendor  of  their  wives. 

We  were  noticing  and  admiring  all  this,  and  had 
shaken  hands  with  M.  de  Thouvenel,  and  spoken  to 
the  few  of  the  crowd  whom  we  knew,  when  it  was 
whispered  that  the  Sultan  was  coming.  Every  one 
of  course  made  way,  and  Abdul  Medjid  quietly  walked 
up  the  ball-room  with  Lord  and  Lady  Stratford,  their 


220  IN    AND   AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

daughters,  and  a  gorgeous  array  of  pashas  in  the  reaj 
He  paused  with  evident  delight  and  pleasure  at  the 
really  beautiful  scene  before  him,  bowing  on  both 
sides,  and  smiling  as  he  went.  A  velvet  and  gold 
chair,  raised  a  few  steps,  had  been  placed  for  him  in 
the  middle  of  one  side  of  the  ball-room ;  but,  on  being 
conducted  to  it,  he  seemed  too  much  pleased  to  sit 
down,  and  continued  standing,  looking  about  him 
with  the  undisguised  pleasure  and  simplicity  of  a  child. 
He  was  dressed  in  a  plain  dark-blue  frock-coat,  the 
cuffs  and  collar  crimson,  and  covered  with  brilliants. 
The  hilt  of  his  sword  was  entirely  covered  also  with 
brilliants.  Of  course  he  wore  the  everlasting  fez. 
There  is  something  extremely  interesting  in  his  appear 
ance.  He  looks  languid  and  careworn;  but,  when 
spoken  to,  his  fine  dark  eyes  brighten  up  and  he 
smiles  the  most  frank  and  winning  of  smiles. 

I  am  quite  charmed  with  the  Sultan,  so  different  to 
most  of  the  pashas  by  whom  he  is  surrounded,  so 
touchingly  kind,  and  simple,  and  sorrowful!  The 
pashas  behaved  very  badly,  forcing  themselves  vio 
lently  in  a  double  row  on  the  Sultan's  right-hand,  and 
pushing  every  one  right  and  left,  like  policemen  when 
the  Queen  is  dining  in  the  city;  just  as  if  they  thought 
that  the  ladies  were  going  to  carry  off  the  Sultan  at 
once.  We  were  close  to  the  throne,  and  got  a  terrible 
squeezing.  My  lace  mantilla  was  caught  in  a  pasha's 
sword,  and  I  thought  that  nothing  could  save  its  being 
torn  to  pieces.  However,  Lord  Dunkellin  very  kindly 
rescued  me,  and,  thanks  to  his  strong  arm,  I  was  able 
to  keep  my  place  and  see  Miss  Mary  Canning  and  the 
ministers'  wives  presented  to  the  Sultan.  A  quadrille 
was  formed,  as  well  as  the  crowd  would  allow,  which 


FANCY  BALL  AT  THE  EMBASSY.       221 

the  Sultan  watched  with  great  interest,  and  then  a 
waltz.  After  that  his  Majesty  walked  through  the 
rooms,  took  an  ice,  and  then  departed,  expressing,  I 
must  not  forget  to  tell  you,  the  greatest  admiration  of 
the  Highlanders  and  Lancers  who  lined  the  grand 
staircase,  one  on  each  step,  and  of  the  Light  Dragoons 
and  Royals,  who  presented  arms  to  him  in  the  hall: 
most  of  the  cavalry  men  wore  the  Balaklava  clasp. 
He  certainly  seemed  much  struck  and  gratified,  as  the 
papers  say,  at  this  splendid  scene.  Colonel  Ebor,  the 
"Times"  correspondent,  was  there,  and  saw  every 
thing,  but  was  obliged  to  keep  a  little  out  of  the 
Sultan's  sight,  being  attired  in  the  magnificent  dress 
of  a  Janissary  Aga :  this  amused  us  very  much.  After 
the  Sultan's  departure  the  dancing  was  continued  with 
great  spirit.  Mehemet  Ali,  Aali  Pasha,  the  Grand 
Vizier,  and  most  of  the  pashas,  remained  almost  to  the 
last.  The  groups  in  the  drawing-rooms  were  most 
striking;  and  splendid  knots  promenaded  the  galleries. 
Sometimes  the  waltzers  dashed  out  of  the  ball-room,  and 
danced  down  the  galleries,  which  seemed  to  please  the 
Grenadiers  and  Highlanders  stationed  there  excessively. 

As  I  was  walking  through  the  rooms  with  M.  and 
Madame  Cretzolesko  (Wallachians,)  we  met  the  Grand 
Vizier.  He  conversed  in  French  for  some  time  with 
Madame  C.,  and  appeared  to  be  very  intelligent,  and 
far  livelier  than  the  Turks  are  generally.  He  has 
traveled  a  great  deal. 

The  pashas  eat  enormously  at  a  ball.  They  are  for 
ever  paying  visits  to  the  refreshment-room,  and  drink 
vast  quantities  of  champagne,  of  which  they  pretend 
not  to  know  the  exact  genius,  and  silly  call  it  "  eau 
gazeuse."  The  English  papers  talk  of  Turkish  pre- 
19* 


222  IN   AND   ABOUND   STAMBOUL. 

judices;  generally  speaking  they  have  none,  either 
religious  or  political,  unless  it  suits  them.  The  word 
"prejudice"  means  their  dislike  of  anything  which 
will  prevent  their  living  in  splendor  on  the  misery 
and  oppression  of  the  people.  They  drink  champagne 
and  brandy,  and  defy  the  laws  of  the  Koran,  com 
fortably  enough,  in  secret.  I  must  except  your  real 
Turkish  gentleman,  a  strict  Mussulman,  who  is  sel 
dom  heard  of  now,  and  never  mentioned  in  the  same 
breath  with  "reform"  or  European  manners.  It  is 
curious  that  among  the  Turks  the  rich  represent  the 
bad ;  the  poor  seem  almost  invariably  to  be  honest, 
temperate,  patient,  hard-working,  and  religious.  A 
poor  man  here  has  a  strikingly  noble  countenance ; 
you  mav  know  rich  ones  only  too  frequently  by  the 
sensuality  and  ferocity  of  their  expression.  Here  a 
man  can  hardly  be  rich  and  virtuous ;  if  he  keeps  a 
place  it  must  be  by  dishonest  means,  and  so  he  goes 
on  from  bad  to  worse. 

But  to  return  to  the  "  Sultan's  Ball,"  as  it  is  called. 
I  must  not  forget  to  tell  you  about  the  Turkish  lady, 
who  created  quite  a  sensation  there.  When  I  first  saw 
her,  she  was  walking  through  the  principal  drawing- 
room,  leaning  on  the  arm  of  General  Mansfield.  She 
was  vailed,  and  wrapped  in  a  gray  feridjee,  or  Turkish 
cloak,  and  appeared  to  be  highly  delighted  at  the 
scene.  Many  thought  that  some  pasha,  or  even  the 
Sultan  himself,  had  permitted  some  fair  prisoner  to 
view  for  the  first  time  a  Giaour  festival,  especially  as 
all  her  remarks  were  made  in  the  veritable  Turkish 
tongue.  As  the  evening,  however,  wore  on,  the  Turk 
ish  lady's  timidity  wore  off,  and  at  last  she  began  to 
behave  with  excessive  levity,  walking  up  to  English 


THE  CHIEF  OF  THE  EUNUCHS.        223 

officers  and  examining  their  stars  and  orders,  and 
looking  up  into  their  faces  in  the  most  bold  and  im 
pudent  manner.  Then  a  spirit  of  mischief  and  fun 
seemed  to  possess  her,  and  she  had  something  cutting 
and  sarcastic  to  say  to  every  pasha  who  passed  by : 
"  Ah !  you  see  we  are  coming  out  now.  No  more  cages 
for  us.  We  are  going  to  see  the  world  and  judge  for 
ourselves,  and  love  whom  we  like.  What  fine  tall 
fellows  these  English  officers  are !  I  dare  say  they 
would  be  very  fond  of  us,  and  not  shut  us  up,  and  tie 
this  foolish  rag  over  our  faces,  as  you  do."  You  may 
imagine  the  tittering  and  laughing,  as  the  Turkish 
lady's  sayings  to  the  pashas  got  translated.  She  fol 
lowed  Mehemet  Ali  about,  saying  the  most  cutting  and 
witty  things,  until  the  handsome  Lord  High  Admiral 
hardly  knew  what  to  make  of  it ;  nor  were  the  rest  of 
his  Turkish  majesty's  ministers  spared.  It  was  cer 
tainly  most  cleverly  done ;  the  walk,  and  every  move 
ment  and  gesture  of  the  Turkish  woman,  perfect.  At 
last,  however,  Fuad  Pasha  discovered  in  the  fair  dame 
the  Hon.  Percy  Smythe,  one  of  the  attaches,  who 
speaks  Turkish  perfectly  well,  and  was  thus  enabled 
to  beard  the  pashas  so  successfully. 

A  most  horrible-looking  creature  is  the  Chief  of  the 
Eunuchs.  He  is  a  black,  and  hideous  to  a  degree 
positively  revolting ;  yet  he  is  the  second  man  in  the 
kingdom,  and  the  Sultan  dares  hardly  go  anywhere 
without  him.  He  walked  about  leaning  on  the  arm 
of  a  Negro  but  little  less  frightful  than  himself,  their 
long  swords  clattering  as  they  went.  I  am  told  that 
this  creature  walks  about  the  Seraglio  with  a  thong  of 
leather  in  his  hand,  ready  to  strike  any  rebellious  lady 
who  may  offend  him.  They  say  that  the  Sultan  would 


224  IN   AND   AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

be  very  glad  to  give  up  his  Seraglio  if  he  dared.  He 
is  much  attached  to  the  sultana,  the  mother  of  his 
children,  and  seldom  visits  the  seven  hundred  women 
shut  up  in  the  great  cage  near  him.  He  has  altogether 
seven  wives ;  the  rest  are  slaves  (principally  presents) 
and  attendants. 

In  the  course  of  the  evening  it  was  whispered, 
"  Soyer  is  coming  at  twelve  o'clock  with  a  bear."  Ac 
cordingly,  at  twelve  o'clock  a  door  at  the  upper  end 
of  the  ball-room  opened,  and  Soyer,  in  a  most  effective 
Eastern  costume,  appeared,  leading  a  monstrous  brown 
bear  by  a  chain.  Two  Greek  ladies  screamed ;  but 
curiosity  appeared  to  be  the  ruling  passion,  and  poor 
M.  Soyer  and  his  friend  seemed  to  run  a  pretty  good 
chance  of  being  squeezed  to  death  in  the  splendid  mob. 
By  pushing  a  pasha,  and  giving  an  appealing  look  to 
a  Eed-Cross  Knight,  gently  elbowing  my  Lord  Cardi 
nal,  and  sliding  beside  a  powerful  Crimean  hero,  I 
managed  to  get  an  excellent  view  of  Bruin  and  his 
manoeuvres.  His  antics  were  excessively  droll  and 
characteristic  of  his  race,  but  his  nose,  with  its  too 
bright  tint  of  carmine,  betrayed  him.  That  Persian 
Princess  need  not  stand  upon  the  ottoman ;  those  lovely 
Circassians  need  not  tremble  under  their  silver  vails, 
the  bear  being  nothing  more  nor  less  than  a  distin 
guished  friend  of  the  distinguished  M.  Soyer.  I  sup 
pose  there  was  some  remarkable  story  attached  to  this 
skin,  or  the  capture  of  the  real  gentleman  who  wore  it. 
M.  Soyer  was  trying  to  say  something,  but  the  laugh 
ing,  tittering,  and  pretty  terrors  of  the  ladies  rendered 
inaudible  every  word,  and  M.  Soyer  gained  no  laurels 
for  his  eloquence  that  night.  He  and  his  friend  were 
escorted  out  of  the  ball-room  by  the  Negro  king,  his 


ENTHUSIASM    OF    ESPINU.  225 

satanic  majesty,  and  the  "  familiar  spirit"  in  scarlet 
and  black,  who  each  performed  such  diabolic  dances 
and  jmnpings  round  them,  that  one  began  to  think  it 
was  not  very  often  they  mixed  with  beings  of  this 
upper  world. 

When  I  left  the  ball-room,  at  half-past  four,  it  was 
as  brilliant  as  ever.  One  could  never  be  wearied  of 
looking,  but  I  knew  that  this  scene  of  the  Arabian 
Nights  must  end,  and  I  liked  best  to  leave  it  in  its 
glory — the  same  splendid  groups  still  conversing  in 
Eastern  languages,  and  resting  on  the  sofas  under  the 
orange-trees,  which,  as  I  told  you,  Lady  Stratford  has 
so  exquisitely  disposed  in  the  drawing-rooms.  Ed 
mund  and  Herbert  Siborne  left  me  at  the  foot  of  the 
staircase.  A  few  steps  up  was  perched  Mistress  Es- 
pinu.  She  was  in  the  highest  state  of  delight ;  had 
seen  the  Sultan  both  arrive  and  depart ;  thought  the 
English  soldiers  a  thousand  times  "bono;"  never  be 
lieved  that  there  were  such  dresses  and  diamonds  in 
the  world  as  she  had  seen,  or  dreamed  of  such  music, 
or  of  such  a  large  house.  The  housekeeper  had  asked 
her  to  go  down  and  eat  (one  of  the  housemaids  was 
Greek),  but  the  house  was  so  large  that  she  was  pos 
sessed  with  the  idea  of  never  finding  me  again  if  she 
once  let  go  the  balustrades,  or  let  out  of  her  mind  the 
way  to  my  room.  So  there  she  had  been  all  night, 
but  was  neither  cold  nor  hungry.  She  told  me  that  an 
officer  with  white  hair  and  a  "  star  on  his  heart"  had 
come  up  the  stairs  about  midnight.  He  spoke  in  En 
glish,  and  asked  who  she  was,  she  supposed ;  so  she 
said,  "Inglis  Hornby,"  and  he  nodded  and  passed  on. 
This  was  Lord  Stratford,  who  retired  early.  I  made 
this  out,  partly  from  poor  Espinu  when  I  got  to  my 


226  IN   AND  AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

room,  shocked  at  her  state  of  starvation,  and  partly 
when  Yassili  arrived  the  next  morning  with  the  white 
horses  and  teleki  to  take  us  back  to  Orta-kioy.  She 
herself  was  highly  delighted.  The  sight  of  the  Sultan 
and  the  English  officers  seemed  to  have  warmed  and 
fed  her  even  on  a  cold  stone  staircase :  and  she  will  no 
doubt  talk  of  the  "  Sultan's  first  ball"  to  the  day  of  her 
death. 

Every  thing  was  most  admirably  ordered ;  not  a 
single  accident  nor  the  least  confusion.  The  next 
morning  we  got  home  with  some  difficulty,  a  heavy 
fall  of  snow  having  taken  place  in  the  night. 

At  twelve  o'clock  the  firing  of  cannon  announced 
that  the  Sultan  was  passing,  as  usual,  to  the  mosque, 
even  after  the  unparalleled  fatigue  of  a  ball.  I  was 
sorry  not  to  have  been  at  Orta-kioy,  that  I  might 
have  noticed  whether  (as  is  usual)  the  muskets  were 
discharged  at  the  palace  at  daybreak,  and  whether 
the  drums  rolled  their  summons  to  the  Divan  at  that 
primitive  hour. 


LETTEK    XXVI. 

THE  SULTAN'S  DINNER — TURKISH  HOSPITALITY — THE  EMBASSY  BALLS — 
THE  SULTAN — ASSASSINATIONS — THE  WEATHER. 

Constantinople,  February  12th,  1856. 
My  dear  Mr.  Hornby : 

You  must  not  think  that  I  have  altogether  dis~ 
continued  my  long  letters,  descriptive  of  Turkish 
manners,  and  of  what  we  see  and  do.  There  are 
several  reasons  why  you  have  not  received  such  fre 
quent  packets.  Firstly,  I  have  been  suffering  severely 
from  neuralgia ;  secondly,  our  usually  quiet  evenings 
have  been  much  taken  up  by  visitors ;  and  thirdly,  I 
have  not  been  inclined  to  write  at  length.  My  pen 
however  has  not  been  idle,  but  working  rather  for  duty 
than  pleasure  ;  but  now  that  not  a  single  unanswered 
friend  remains  to  reproach  me,  and  all  the  bells  are 
over,  and  my  tiresome  neuralgia  has  taken  its  depar 
ture,  you  may  expect  to  receive  long  communications 
as  of  old.  I  was  extremely  flattered  and  pleased  to 
hear  they  amused  you  all  so  much. 

We  greatly  enjoy  the  "  Spectator,"  which  generally 
arrives  on  Tuesday ;  so  you  may  always  imagine  us 
on  that  evening,  reading  news  from  dear  old  England, 
in  our  little  drawing-room  at  Orta-kioy;  only  re 
member  we  are  nearly  three  hours  earlier  than  you ; 
when  it  is  six  o'clock  in  England,  it  is  nearly  nine 
with  us  at  Constantinople. 

The  Turks  are  very  primitive  and  sensible  in  their 

(227) 


228  IN   AND   AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

habits.  We  are  near  the  palace,  and  at  daybreak  hear 
regularly  the  roll  of  the  drums  and  the  discharge  of 
musketry  which  one  reads  of  in  the  Arabian  Nights. 
The  Sultan  dines  in  the  middle  of  the  day.  About 
two  o'clock  there  is  always  a  crowd  at  the  bottom 
of  our  village,  as  the  Sultan's  cook  sells  the  remains 
of  his  master's  dinner  to  any  one  who  chooses  to  buy 
a  "  tit-bit."  I  believe  that  no  Turk,  (except  porters 
and  the  like)  is  ever  seen  out  after  dusk,  unless  on 
urgent  affairs.  The  French  embassador  dined  with 
Aali  Pasha,  the  Grand  Yizier,  the  other  evening,  and 
slept  at  his  palace,  in  accordance  with  the  old  Turkish 
custom,  which  never  allows  a  guest  to  depart  in  dark 
ness  and  danger  from  bad  roads,  or  worse  evils  still. 
Lord  Stratford  always  returns  to  the  Embassy,  how 
ever,  not  liking  to  sleep  out.  Almost  all  Turks,  I  am 
told,  are  in  bed  by  nine,  and  always  rise  to  prayers  at 
daybreak. 

You  have  no  doubt  seen  ere  this,  an  account  of 
the  two  Embassy  balls,  at  both  of  which  the  Sultan 
was  present.  The  English  embassadress's  bal  costume 
was  the  most  magnificent  and  picturesque  one  pos 
sible  to  conceive ;  it  deserves  a  letter  to  itself,  so  I 
will  send  you  a  full  account.  Lord  Stratford  asked 
Edmund  very  kindly  to  be  one  of  his  staff,  who  met 
the  Sultan  at  the  entrance.  It  was  a  most  interesting 
sight :  the  grand  staircase  was  lined  with  Crimean 
troops,  cannon  thundered,  and  the  band  played  "  God 
save  the  Queen."  The  court-yard  of  the  palace  was 
brilliantly  illuminated.  "Abdul  Medj id"  and  " Vic 
toria"  were  hung  in  the  brightest  lamps  across  the 
darkness,  after  the  Turkish  fashion,  which  has  a  ma 
gical  and  beautiful  effect.  The  Sultan  has  a  benevo- 


ASSASSINATIONS.  229 

lent  and  pleasing  countenance,  one  that  you  like  at 
once — mild  and  melancholy,  and  exhibits  a  great 
contrast  to  those  of  the  ferocious  looking  pashas 
about  him.  Sad  to  say,  his  troubles  and  distractions 
are  making  him  drink  champagne  and  brandy  too 
freely,  even  for  a  Frank.  He  was  much  amused  at 
the  novel  scene  presented  to  him,  and  looked  on  with 
interest  while  a  quadrille  was  formed  before  him. 
Edmund  and  I  were  close  to  his  chair  of  state,  and 
saw  him  plainly.  But  I  must  not  anticipate  my  prom 
ised  long  letter.  I  was,  if  you  care  to  know,  a  Span 
ish  lady  in  a  black  mantilla  fastened  with  beautiful 
damask  roses. 

Herbert  Siborne  was  there,  looking  extremely  well ; 
he  had  been  in  Orta-kioy  the  day  before,  and  could 
not  find  us  out  in  the  maze  of  irregular  wooden 
houses.  Edmund  has  just  bought  a  horse  to  bring  to 
England.  He  is  an  Arab,  and  called  ''Sultan,"  at 
my  express  desire.  Georgy,  the  Sais,  now  rides 
a  Turkish  Johnny."  Well  mounted,  I  hear  to  my 
comfort  that  a  man  is  pretty  safe. 

There  were  twelve  cases  of  stabbing  last  week  at 
Pera ;  two  of  the  victims  were  Englishmen.  A  mer 
chant  whom  we  know  had  a  dispute  with  a  Greek ; 
that  worthy  said  as  he  departed :  "  I'll  settle  you  in 
the  streets!"  The  Scheschell  immediately  left  his 
office,  and  got  a  couple  of  French  soldiers,  who 
marched  the  gentleman  off  to  the  Greek  consul's, 
where  the  charge  was  made  against  him,  and  he  was 
locked  up.  If  every  one  were  to  behave  with  the  same 
promptness  and  decision  on  being  threatened,  no 
doubt  the  effect  would  be  very  salutary  in  stopping 
such  cowardly  attacks. 
20 


230  IN    AND    AROUND    STAMHOUL. 

The  weather  here  is  lovely :  there  is  a  south  wind 
blowing,  and  "  white  horses"  are  rushing  up  the  Bos- 
phorus  from  the  Sea  of  Marmora.  In  the  middle  of 
the  day  the  sudden  heat  is  oppressive.  The  evenings 
are  cold  and  sharp,  and  it  is  no  doubt  these  frequent 
changes  of  temperature  which  makes  this  climate  so 
trying.  Should  the  wind  change  to-night,  we  might 
have  snow  in  a  few  hours,  and  be  pinched  with  cold 
after  having  been  quite  faint  with  heat.  I  feel  the 
confinement  to  the  house  very  much,  and  long  for 
the  disappearance  of  the  mud  in  the  village,  that  I 
may  get  down  to  the  Bosphorus  in  a  morning.  But 
every  thing  with  us  ends  in  a  deep  sigh  and  "Oh,  for 
home  I"  We  poor  mortals  do  not  know  what  a  thing 
is  till  we  loose  it. 

It  is  a  great  comfort  to  hear  such  good  accounts  of 
Edie.  Her  "  sayings  and  doings,"  as  described  by  my 
mother,  are  most  amusing.  Mrs.  Austin  is  quite 
pleased  with  her  intelligence  and  fun,  and  says  that 
she  is  extremely  well-behaved,  which  I  was  delighted 
to  hear  above  every  thing  else.  I  always  send  her 
little  bouquets  of  artificial  flowers  for  her  doll,  taken 
from  sweetmeats  at  the  balls,  which  afford  great  de 
light.  The  same  lady  received  a  Turkish  handker 
chief,  covered  with  spangles,  to-  serve  as  a  shawl. 

I  must  say  adieu ;  the  twilight  fades  into  darkness 
so  soon  here,  and  I  can  scarcely  see.  Edmund  will 
be  home  soon,  and  Yassili  is  ready  to  serve  one  of  his 
nice  little  dinners. 


LETTER    XXYII. 

THE  FRENCH  EMBASSADOR'g   BALL — DINNER-PARTY — THE   SULTAN 'S  VISIT 

FRENCH    AND    ENGLISH    BELLES PASHAS  AT  THE    BALL A  FIRE A 

RUSSIAN  PRISONER. 

February  13th,  1856. 
My  dear  Sister : 

My  last  letter  was  full  of  the  bal  costume  at 
the  English  palace.  I  must  now  just  give  you  an 
idea  of  the  ball  which  M.  de  Thouvenel  gave  to  the 
Sultan  last  night.  We  took  rooms  at  the  Hotel 
Belle vue;  which  is  next  door  to  the  French  palace, 
and  we  arrived  there  from  Orta-kioy  just  in  time  for 
dinner. 

It  was  a  tremendous  tdble-c£lh6te  of  English,  French, 
and  Sardinian  officers.  Kiani  Pasha  took  me  down 
from  M.  Cadrossi's  room,  to  whom  we  had  been  paying 
a  visit.  M.  Cadrossi  is,  as  I  dare  say  you  remember, 
Edmund's  French  colleague.  Kiani  Pasha  is  the 
Turkish  commissioner.  He  speaks  Italian,  and  we 
got  on  admirably.  He  is  rather  nervous  at  table, 
seeming  in  deadly  fear  of  putting  his  fingers  into  the 
dishes,  or  doing  any  thing  else  to  shock  Europeans. 
Rustem  Bey  was  also  there.  He  has  learned  to  dance, 
and  was  anticipating  the  ball  like  a  girl  of  eighteen. 
Our  friend,  the  Yicomte  di  Negri,  the  Sardinian  com 
modore,  sat  opposite  to  us,  and  we  were  charmed  to 
meet.  It  is  very  pleasant  going  into  Pera  from  these 
savage  parts,  and  stumbling  upon  all  your  martial 
acquaintance.  It  is  also  very  odd  to  be  the  only 

(23!) 


232  IN   AND   ABOUND   STAMBOUL. 

creature  of  "  womankind"  in  such  a  crowd ;  and  one 
tries  hard  not  to  be  proud  at  being  fed  and  tended  like 
an  ibis. 

The  dining-room  of  the  Hotel  Bellevue  overlooks 
the  French  Embassy.  At  dinner  I  could  see  the 
Greeks  crawling  over  roof  and  front,  lighting  the 
lamps  for  the  illumination.  It  was  soon  a  blaze  of 
light,  and  the  champagne  and  conversation  had  not 
made  our  immense  party  the  less  inclined  for  the 
ball ;  so  we  soon  broke  up  to  dress.  M.  de  Thou  vend 
had  begged  a  particular  few  not  to  be  later  than  half- 
past  eight,  as  the  Sultan  was  invited  at  that  hour, 
although  it  was  not  generally  known.  Edmund  was 
delayed  a  little,  and  my  sedan-chair  was  nowhere  to  be 
found.  After  waiting  for  it  some  time,  our  patience 
was  exhausted ;  so  I  put  on  a  cloak,  and  mounted  my 
husband's  goloshes,  and  we  launched  out  bravely  into 
the  sea  of  mud.  However,  it  was  but  a  few  yards,  and 
from  the  flambeaux  and  lanterns  as  light  as  day ;  but 
there  was  such  a  crowd  of  arabas,  horses,  and  sedans, 
and  cavasses,  and  Greeks,  that  we  could  scarcely  make 
our  way  through.  The  alley  leading  down  to  the 
Embassy  from  the  street  was  lined  with  Zouaves  and 
troops  of  the  line. 

The  soldiers  from  the  different  French  regiments 
stationed  in  the  Embassy  garden  looked  magnificently 
picturesque  by  the  light  of  the  illuminations  and  glare 
of  flambeaux.  The  hall,  staircase,  and  lobbies  were 
adorned  with  orange-trees  and  flowers,  and  lined  with 
picked  men  of  the  finest  regiments.  "We  found  the 
ball-room  frightfully  crowded.  Every  one  knew  this 
time  that  the  Sultan  was  to  be  there ;  so  they  were 
not  to  be  cheated,  and  hundreds  arrived  even  before 


FRENCH    AND   ENGLISH   BELLES.  233 

the  appointed  hour.  However,  all  were  put  out  by 
his  Majesty's  having  arrived  quietly  at  half-past  seven. 
Fortunately  M.  de  Thouvenel  was  ready  to  receive  him ; 
and  I  was  glad  that  he  did  go  so  early,  as  he  had  an 
opportunity  of  looking  at  every  thing  without  being 
hunted.  The  crowd  was  really  terrible,  and  when  the 
Sultan  left  the  drawing-room  and  took  his  place  upon 
the  raised  seat,  as  he  did  at  Lord  Stratford's,  he  was 
literally  hemmed  in  and  stared  at  as  if  he  had  been  a 
wild  beast.  A  quadrille  was  attempted,  but  could 
scarcely  be  said  to  be  danced,  so  great  was  the  pressure 
near  the  little  throne.  The  Periots  behaved  very 
badly ;  and  the  embassador,  in  his  anxiety  to  please 
everybody,  had  asked  too  many  of  them. 

The  Grand  Yizier,  the  Seraskier,  and  all  the  pashas 
of  note  were  there ;  also  the  Chief  of  the  Eunuchs,  strut 
ting  about  as  usual.  A  splendid  military  and  diplo 
matic  gathering,  of  course.  The  Princess  Stongia  was 
there :  she  is  said  by  many  to  be  one  of  the. most  lovely 
women  in  Europe.  I  thought  her  very  beautiful, 
dressed  in  snowy  white,  with  a  queenly  tiara  of  brilliants. 
There  is  a  great  deal  of  good-natured  rivalry  among 
the  French  and  English  here,  as  to  the  respective 
beauty  of  the  "  Commissariat  daughters,"  each  of  the 
commissary-generals  having  one  perfect  in  her  way, 
and  possessing  as  many  admirers  as  there  are  days  in 
the  year.  I  pronounce  in  favor  of  the  English  girl, 
who  is  as  charming  in  a  straw  bonnet  as  in  a  ball- 
dress.  It  is  very  amusing  to  see  half-a-dozen  officers, 
with  orders  and  stars,  waiting  anxiously  while  the 
beauty  looks  through  her  tablets,  and  then  quietly 
tells  them  that  it  is  impossible  for  her  to  "  have  the 
pleasure"  that  evening.  "Is  there  no  chance?"  mur- 
20* 


234  IN  AND   AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

murs  a  disconsolate  general.  "Not  the  slightest," 
is  the  usual  reply,  with  a  merry  laugh :  for  she  is  not 
the  least  conceited  or  spoiled,  although  in  a  fair  way  to 
become  both.  Then  you  hear  an  attache  say,  "I  mast 
go  and  try  my  luck ;"  while  a  disappointed  suitor 
remarks  sulkily,  "  I  tell  you  you  have  not  the  slightest 
chance."  Both  the  "  commissariats "  looked  very 
loVely  at  each  of  these  assemblies.  Although  not 
costume,  the  French  ball  was  very  brilliant.  The 
suites  of  rooms  are  not  nearly  so  large  as  those  at  the 
English  Embassy,  consequently  the  crowding  was 
greater ;  but  still  it  was  a  beautiful  sight. 

It  is  curious  to  see  the  pashas  walking  from  room 
to  room,  holding  each  other's  hands  just  like  school 
boys:  this  is  a  great  mark  of  friendship  among  them. 
I  was  very  glad  of  an  opportunity  of  seeing  the 
Seraskier,  or  Minister  of  War.  He  has  a  very  fine  face, 
and  is  said  to  be  an  honest  man.  (N.  B.  He  is  poor.) 
It  was  very  interesting  to  watch  the  ministerial  groups 
conversing  on  the  different  sofas,  and  to  notice  the 
quiet  amazement  of  some  of  the  pashas  at  the  waltzing. 
I  cannot  help  thinking  it  a  pity  that  they  should  have 
seen  so  much  of  this.  It  is  too  sudden  a  jump  into 
the  questionable  amusements  of  what  is  called  civilized 
life.  I  was  particularly  struck  with  one  fine  old  Turk 
who,  late  in  the  evening,  was  watching  the  waltzers 
with  any  thing  but  an  admiring  expression.  Presently 
another  pasha  came  up,  and  evidently  asked  him  what 
he  thought  of  all  this,  for  he  shrugged  his  shoulders 
in  an  unmistakable  manner,  as  much  as  to  say,  "Is  it 
possible  that  our  gentle,  vailed  women  will  ever  rush 
round  in  the  arms  of  officers,  like  these  ?" 

We  left  the  ball  at  its  height,  at  about  half-past  two. 


A    KUSS1AN   PRISONER.  235 

There  was  a  splendid  supper,  but  nothing  to  be  got 
for  the  crowd.  I  was  just  falling  asleep,  and  gradually 
getting  stars  and  red  coats,  and  the  Sultan's  kind  face, 
and  the  Grand  Vizier's  sharp  one,  out  of  my  eyes, 
when  the  cannon  gave  the  alarm  of  fire.  We  are  too 
much  accustomed  to  count  these  seven  surly  guns  to 
mind  them,  or  the  watchman's  wailing  cry  afterward. 
When  we  first  came  here,  and  the  fire-guns  were 
heard,  I  used  to  scramble  out  of  bed  and  mount  a 
chair,  to  see  where  the  fire  was.  But  you  soon  learn 
to  hear  them  with  indifference. 

Tell  dear  Edie  that  a  very  pretty  little  cat  sat  upon 
my  lap  at  breakfast,  at  the  Hotel  Bellevue,  on  the 
morning  after  the  French  ball.  An  officer  told  me 
that  Miss  Puss  was  a  Eussian  prisoner,  a  French 
soldier  having  saved  her  from  the  ruins  of  a  house  at 
Sebastopol,  in  which  she  was  mewing  piteously,  taken 
her  to  his  tent,  and  afterward  conveyed  her  to  Con 
stantinople,  where  she  was  presented  to  the  fat,  good- 
natured  landlady  of  the  Bellevue,  who  prizes  her  very 
highly,  and  with  whom  she  has  forgotten  her  former 
sorrows. 


LETTEK    XXVIII. 

SHEPHERDS FLOCKS THE    GREEK    LENT NEWS     FROM     THE    CRIMEA 

TURKISH     CEMETERY — THE    VILLAGE     OF     ORTA-KIOY AN     ARMENIAN 

BURIAL — FUNERAL   OF   A   CHILD. 

Orta-kioy,  March  16th,  1856. 

My  dear  Mother : 

It  is  a  frightful  day,  with  a  piercing  north 
wind,  and  snow  driving  before  it  so  thickly  that  one 
can  only  see  the  shivering  Turks  and  Armenians  cow 
ering  along  when  close  to  our  cottage.  The  valley 
and  the  Bosphorus  are  quite  hidden  from  our  sight. 

The  shepherds  are  bringing  down  the  sheep  and 
lambs  from  the  hills.  Their  goatskin  cloaks  and  caps 
look  white  and  stiff  with  snow.  The  poor  sheep  look 
very  miserable,  but  the  goats  are  hardier,  and  skip 
along  cheerfully  enough.  This  mixture  of  sheep  and 
goats  reminds  one  forcibly  of  the  Scriptures,  as  does 
the  tender  care  which  the  shepherds  take  of  their 
little  flocks. 

Pasturage  and  food  is  so  scanty  here  that  they  lead 
them  about  from  hill  to  valle}7,  and  when  the  weather 
is  severe,  having  no  outhouses,  they  take  them  to  the 
village.  The  "guide  sheep"  is  a  very  pretty  crea 
ture,  tell  Edith;  it  is  trained  to  follow  the  shepherd, 
having  been  brought  up  by  him  from  a  lamb,  and  it 
lies  in  the  shepherd's  hut  like  his  child ;  all  the  other 
sheep  will  follow  it,  and  it  is  really  charming  to  see 
the  motherly  care  it  takes  of  them.  By  the  side  of 
our  cottage  is  a  road  which  leads  to  the  hills,  so  I 
generally  see  them  going  from,  and  returning  to,  the 
(236) 


SHEPHERDS— FLOCKS.  237 

village,  night  and  morning.  There  is  an  open  part  of 
the  ruins  where  a  great  many  wild  dogs  congregate, 
and  it  is  quite  a  pretty  sight  to  see  the  "guide"  go 
on  a  little  in  advance,  look  anxiously  round,  and 
then  trot  briskly  on,  taking  a  broad  sweep,  for  fear 
of  a  sortie  from  the  enemy. 

The  shepherd,  in  his  cloak  of  goatskins,  generally 
follows  behind  with  a  little  rough  bay  pony,  who  car 
ries  in  the  large  pockets  of  his  saddle  any  lambs  that 
may  be  hurt,  or  weakly.  The  shepherd  has  two  large 
dogs  on  the  hills,  but  they  only  seem  used  here  as 
a  defense  from  the  wild  dogs  and  wolves ;  the  pretty 
guide  sheep  taking  the  flocks  in  and  out  of  the 
villages.  My  favorite,  whom  I  watch  so  often,  has 
got  a  little  lamb,  tell  Edie ;  he  is  black,  with  a  white 
spot  on  his  forehead,  and  a  white  tip  to  his  tail :  his 
mother  is  wonderfully  fond  of  him.  The  kind  shep 
herd  carries  him  for  her  under  his  goatskin  cloak,  and 
every  now  and  then  she  leaves  her  flock  to  jump  up 
at  her  master,  and  peep  in  to  see  how  her  little  one 
does.  Sometimes  the  shepherd  is  eating  his  dinner 
of  brown  bread,  and  she  takes  a  little  bit  from  his 
hand,  so  gently,  as  the  party  wind  up  the  hill.  The 
young  goats  are  full  of  fun,  skipping  about,  and  play 
ing  all  sorts  of  tricks.  They  give  the  anxious,  moth 
erly  little  "guide"  a  great  deal  of  trouble.  Some 
of  them  are  very  large,  with  curling  horns,  and  long, 
shaggy  coats ;  but  there  is  a  smaller  kind,  of  a  golden 
bronze  color,  which  is  remarkably  handsome,  and 
reminds  one  strongly  of  those  on  Greek  vases  and  re 
lievos.  My  favorite  shepherd  has  a  black  assistant; 
he  wears  a  dark-blue  turban,  and  a  stone- colored 
robe  tied  round  his  waist  with  a  piece  of  rope :  he  is 


238  IN   AND   AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

exactly  like  that  graceful  South-Sea  Islander  of  Cap 
tain  Cook's,  whom  Keynolds  painted,  and  on  whom 
Cowper  wrote  some  beautiful  lines.  I  forget  the  name 
(Omar,  or  something  like  it,  I  think,)  but  you  will 
know  whom  I  mean.  You  may  easily  conceive  what 
a  picturesque  party  my  friends  are. 

The  day  before  yesterday  was  the  first  day  of  the 
Greek  Lent,  their  New-Year's  day  being  on  the  13th 
of  ours.  At  about  mid-day  the  old  watchman  chanted 
some  religious  verses  for  the  day,  at  the  door  of  each 
Christian  house.  Every  body  in  the  village,  rich  and 
poor,  took  the  Sacrament, — caiqueejees,  porters,  street- 
sellers  of  sweets,  etc., — the  little  road  was  quite 
crowded.  At  day-break  every  morning  you  hear  the 
summons  of  the  Greek  and  Armenian  churches.  Their 
masters,  the  Turks,  will  not  allow  them  to  use  bells, 
so  they  strike  an  iron  bar  with  another  piece  of  iron, 
and  make  a  noise  somewhat  like  them,  but  very  curi 
ous  to  the  ear  at  first. 

The  Greeks  keep  Lent  very  strictly.  All  the  vil 
lage  go  to  church  at  day -break  every  morning,  and 
the  fast  is  exceedingly  severe.  They  tell  me  that  we 
shall  soon  see  every  one  look  starved  and  miserable, 
nothing  being  allowed  but  soup,  little  better  than 
water,  and  an  occasional  piece  of  black  bread,  just 
sufficient  to  sustain  life. 

The  sun,  never  long  absent  here,  has  just  burst  out. 
The  Asian  mountains  opposite,  glittering  with  snow, 
look  very  beautiful.  At  first  I  thought  they  were 
white  clouds.  Adieu ! 

March  18th. 

I  am  writing  my  letter  to  you  this  evening,  as  to- 


CRUELTY   TO   OXEN.  239 

morrow  I  have  an  invitation  to  go  with  Lizzy  James's 
friend,  Madame  de  Fitte  de  Souci,  to  visit  a  Turkish 
harem.  It  will  be  a  great  treat,  and  I  will  write  you 
a  full  account. 

We  have  just  heard  that  Peace  is  proclaimed.  It 
will  give  great  joy  to  those  who  have  husbands,  sons, 
and  brothers  in  the  Crimea.  I  had  a  long  letter  from 
the  camp  last  week.  Our  troops  are  in  splendid  con 
dition,  amply  provided  with  every  thing,  and  full  of 
ardor ;  the  French  suffering  severely  from  want  of  food 
and  clothing,  and  we  are  now  repaying,  a  hundred 
fold,  what  they  gave  us  at  the  beginning  of  the  war. 

All  the  snow  is  gone,  and  the  weather  here  lovely, 
although  the  wind  is  still  in  the  north.  My  days  are 
passed  pretty  much  in  the  way  which  I  described  to 
you  in  a  former  letter,  and  the  principal  amusement  of 
many  solitary  hours  is  noting  all  that  is  new  and  in 
teresting  to  write  home  about.  This  morning  the  Sul 
tan's  eldest  son  rode  past  our  windows ;  the  caparisoned 
horses  and  guard  of  Lancers  following  looked  very 
pretty  winding  up  the  hill.  I  dare  say  they  were 
going  to  visit  the  French  camp  at  Mashlak,  from 
which  we  constantly  see  both  soldiers  and  officers 
riding  or  walking  past  to  the  Bosphorus  or  villages 
about.  Rude  carts,  drawn  by  white  oxen,  are  often 
urged  up  the  hill  by  savage-looking  Croats,  who  beat 
the  poor  animals  most  cruelly.  A  rich  Armenian  is 
building  a  house  on  the  top  of  the  hill,  and  the  huge 
paving  stones  of  his  court-yard  are  fastened  by  ropes 
on  to  these  primitive  and  groaning  vehicles.  The 
necks  of  the  poor  oxen  are  fixed  in  a  kind  of  yoke, 
which  sometimes  wounds  them  severely.  I  can  no 
longer  bear  to  look  at  this  spectacle  of  cruelty  and 


240  IN   AND   AROUND  STAMBOUL. 

barbarity,  and  turn  my  head  from  the  window  when 
ever  I  hear  the  sound  of  the  creaking  wheels,  and  the 
savage  shouts  and  blows  urging  the  poor  patient 
creatures  along. 

There  are  many  sad  sights  from  my  window,  as 
well  as  novel  ones.  Half-way  up  the  hill  above  us  is 
a  small  Turkish  cemetery,  enclosed  in  a  low  stone 
wall.  There  are  not  many  tombs  in  it,  and  no  carved 
or  gilded  ones,  but  the  place  is  shady,  and  the  turf 
always  soft  and  green — a  very  rare  thing  here.  Even 
in  this  quiet  and  secluded  place, 

"Where  the  wild  cypress  waves  in  tender  gloom," 

headless  Janissary-stones  still  tell  the  story  of  Sultan 
Mahmoud's  vengeance. 

There  has  been  no  Turkish  funeral  since  we  came 
here.  They  bear  their  dead  rapidly  by  in  a  covered 
bier,  at  the  head  of  which  the  fez  is  hung.  The  body 
is  placed  in  the  grave  sitting  upright.  The  grave  is 
not  filled  up,  and  a  stone  is  laid  above  it.  This  is 
because  Mussulmans  believe  that  the  good  and  evil 
spirits,  Moukir  and  Nekir,  visit  the  grave  on  the  first 
night,  and  question  the  departed  as  to  the  good  and 
evil  which  he  has  done  in  life.  A  lamp  is  left  burn 
ing  for  the  solemn  party,  and  the  dark  cypress-trees 
wave  gloomily  above.  One  can  fancy  their  solemn 
wail  over  sins  unforgiven,  life's  duties  undone. 

The  Greek  and  Armenian  burial-ground  lies  higher 
up,  on  a  green  slope,  planted  lovingly  with  planes, 
and  many  other  light  and  pretty  trees ;  here  peopla 
sit  in  the  summer  evenings,  thinking  on  those  be 
neath,  and  gazing  quietly  on  the  fair  prospect  spread 
ing  far  and  wide  before  them.  I  notice  here  many 


JEWISH    CEMETERY.  241 

family  groups,  graves  of  fathers,  mothers,  and  little 
children,  with  often  a  raised  piece  of  turf,  shaded 
by  a  tree  evidently  constantly  watered  and  tended. 
The  other  morning  a  broken  bough,  weeping  over 
two  tiny  heaps  of  daisied  mould,  was  carefully  ban 
daged  up,  and  the  turf  around  it  soaked  with  water. 
This  care  and  love  is  very  touching.  There  is  some 
thing  most  pleasing  in  seeing  a  villager,  on  a  sunset 
evening,  quietly  sitting  in  cheerful  communion,  as  it 
were,  with  dear  ones  gone. 

The  village  of  Orta-kioy  lies  thickly  clustered  in  a 
broad  valley,  with  a  hill  on  each  side.  Opposite  to 
that  nearest  to  Stamboul,  on  which  we  live,  and  where 
I  sometimes  sit  of  a  morning,  in  the  Greek  burial- 
ground  of  which  I  am  writing,  lies  the  bleak  and 
dreary  resting-place  of  the  Jews, 

"  Tribes  of  the  wandering  foot  and  weary  breast." 

The  countless  stones  have  neither  form  nor  inscrip 
tion,  merely  masses  of  rough  unhewn  granite  or  mar 
ble  thrown  down  on  the  ground,  with  here  and  there 
some  resembling  broken  columns.  Nothing  can  be 
more  desolate-looking  than  this  gaunt  and  rugged 
hill.  It  looks  so  typical  of  the  despised  and  despair 
ing  race,  and  of  their  ruined  kingdoms.  Sitting  there, 
I  often  chant  over  the  Hebrew  lament : — 

"  But  we  must  wander  witheringly, 

In  other  lands  to  die, 
And  where  our  fathers'  ashes  be, 

Our  own  may  never  lie. 
Our  Temple  hath  not  left  a  stone, 
And  mockery  sits  on  Salem's  throne." 

All  these  different  peoples  pass  by  my  windows  to 
21 


242  IN    AND    ABOUND   STAMBOUL. 

these  their  last  resting-places.  It  made  me  sad  at  first 
to  see  them,  but  now  the  pale  uncovered  faces  do  not 
haunt  me,  as  they  did,  for  hours  after.  Sitting  quietly, 
alone,  you  hear  something  like  a  deep-toned,  distant 
hum,  accompanied  by  a  shrill  one,  just  as  if  myriads 
of  giant  humble-bees  and  myriads  of  thin-trumpeted 
gnats  were  coming  up  the  hill  together.  The  first 
day  I  heard  this,  I  could  not  conceive  what  it  could 
be.  " Un  morto  viene"  (" There  is  a  dead  man  coming,") 
said  Yassili  from  the  garden.  Just  then  the  proces 
sion  wound  round  the  high  walls  of  the  Armenian 
house,  chanting  as  they  came.  First,  six  or  eight 
boys,  in  richly  embroidered  robes,  and  carrying  small 
waxen  tapers ;  then  priests,  in  still  richer  vestments 
of  velvet  and  gold,  bearing  lofty  gilt  crucifixes,  and 
swinging  censers;  then,  on  an  open  bier,  looking 
calm  and  placid,  but  just  a  little,  little  weary,  a  fine 
young  man,  dressed  as  for  a  gala  day,  the  bright  fez 
contrasting  strongly  with  the  pallid  brow.  A  rich 
and  soft  cushion  pillowed  his  head  as  tenderly  perhaps 
as  it  had  often  clone  on  his  own  divan ;  a  robe  richly 
trimmed  with  fur  wrapped  him  to  the  feet ;  his  hands 
were  folded  naturally  on  his  breast ;  he  seemed  repos 
ing  on  a  pleasant  bed,  life's  weary  journey  over. 

The  bier  was  spread  with  shawls,  and  at  each  end 
the  little  arch  of  woodwork,  wreathed  with  leaves 
and  flowers.  Friends,  not  walking  two  and  two,  but 
pressing  lovingly  round,  alternately  bore  the  burden 
slowly  up  the  hill ;  for  it  is  steep  here,  and  they  can 
not  hurry  on,  after  the  fashion  of  the  East,  which 
arises  from  a  belief  that  the  soul  is  restless  and  un 
blessed  until  the  last  rites  are  completed.  So  I  have 
a  full  view  of  the  pale  and  regular  features,  and  at 


FUNEREAL    CEREMONIES. 

first  feel  startled  and  shocked  by  so  unusual  a  sight. 
Afterward  I  feel  that  to  my  mind  it  is  better  and 
less  barbarous  than  our  former  funeral  etiquette  of 
black  feathers,  "mutes,"  and  white  handkerchiefs 
pressed  to  the  eyes,  whether  there  be  tears  or  not. 
Here  it  is  not  incumbent  on  near  and  dear  relatives 
to  attend ;  so  that  those  who  do  go,  do  not  affect  a 
degree  of  grief  which  they  are  not  supposed  to  feel. 
The  women  usually  take  a  last  adieu  within  the  walls 
of  the  house,  tearing  their  hair  and  garments  with 
loud  lamentations,  after  the  fashion  of  the  East. 

Passing  an  Armenian  house  the  other  day,  a  bier 
was  carried  out ;  the  women  had  thrown  open  the 
lattices  of  the  windows,  and  were  gazing  sorrowfully 
down  on  the  procession,  but  were  perfectly  silent  in 
their  grief.  The  chief  of  the  hamals  of  our  village 
died  one  morning  when  we  first  came  here,  and  was 
buried  a  few  hours  after.  He  was  an  Armenian,  and 
old,  so  they  dressed  his  bier  with  ripe  fruits  instead 
of  flowers  ;  bunches  of  golden  oranges,  rich-colored 
pomegranates,  and  clusters  of  pale  lemons  in  their 
dark  green  leaves ; — for  were  they  not  falling  in  the 
autumn,  and  gathered  in,  as  he  was,  ripe  in  the  har 
vest-time?  He  was  very  much  beloved,  so  no  heavy 
burdens  were  carried  that  morning,  and  crowds  of 
hamals  bore  him  on  his  last  journey  up  the  steep 
hill,  where  doubtless  he  had  often  toiled  and  panted 
in  the  burning  sun.  Now  he  rested  right  royally 
in  his  holiday  robes,  and  with  soft  shawls  tenderly 
wrapped  about  him.  Hands  which  will  never  bear  a 
heavy  burden  more,  are  folded  gently  on  his  breast, 
clasping  the  golden  cross  of  the  Armenian  church. 
Tenderly  his  friends  crowd  around  him,  vying  with 
each  other  to  bear  him  swiftly  on  to  happiness  and 


244  IX   AND   AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

perfect  rest.  The  sweetest  air  of  repose  is  on  his  face, 
that  kingly  Eastern  calm  which  is  so  beautiful  among 
the  very  poor. 

The  next  that  came  was  a  bride,  with  a  wreath  on 
her  head,  and  with  long  threads  of  gold  floating  around 
her  bier  from  the  rich  dark  masses  of  her  hair.  I 
watched  her  sorrowfully  from  my  window;  for  she 
was  so  young,  the  very  breath  of  life  seemed  to  hover 
on  her  smiling  features  still,  and  the  long  shadowy 
fringes  of  her  closed  eyelids  to  quiver  in  the  morning 
sun,  as  if  gazing  on  the  flowers  folded  in  her  hands. 
It  was  hardly  possible  to  believe  that  this  was  death. 

But  one  morning, — I  shall  never  forget  that  day, — 
I  heard,  at  a  distance,  the  droning  hum  of  the  priests, 
and,  putting  by  my  work,  looked  out.  I  thought  that 
an  unusual  noise  accompanied  the  chanting,  some 
thing  like  the  jingling  of  a  child's  coral.  And  so  it 
was  ;  for  on  a  cushion,  the  rich  crimson  of  the  velvet 
contrasting  with  the  lily-whiteness  of  the  face  upon 
it,  lay  a  beautiful  baby  of  about  ten  or  twelve  months. 
It  was  exquisitely  dressed,  in  snowy  robes,  as  if  for 
a  christening,  and  freshest  flowers  in  its  tiny  hands 
and  all  around  it.  In  the  lace  rosette  of  its  cap,  a 
little  golden  cross  was  seen,  and  the  cherished  coral 
by  its  side  rang  out  at  every  step  of  the  Armenian 
who  carried  and  hung  over  the  cushion  as  tenderly  as 
if  hushing  the  little  thing  to  sleep.  A  vailed  woman 
looked  on  from  a  distance,  following  the  procession 
slowly  up  the  hill ;  I  thought  it  might  be  the  nurse, 
sorrowing  and  lingering  about.  Oh,  that  sweet  baby- 
face — that  touching  requiem  of  its  coral,  how  it  made 
my  heart  ache ;  thinking  of  the  last  pale  one  that  I 
had  so  grieved  over  but  a  few  months  before  !  I  sat 
down  and  thought  my  heart  would  break. 


LETTEE    XXIX. 

VISIT   TO   THE   HAREM   OP   RIZA   PASHA — NEWS   FROM   ENGLAND LADIES 

OF    STAMBOUL — CHIEF  OF    THE    EUNUCHS INTERIOR    OF    THE    HAREM — 

DRESSES    OF   THE   LADIES — CIRCASSIAN   BEAUTY — DRESSES — HOSPITAL 
ITY   IN   THE   HAREM. 

Orta-kioy,  March  20th. 

My  dear  Lady  Easthope  : 

By  ten  o'clock  on  Monday  morning,  Madame 
la  Vicomtesse  de  Fitte  de  Soucy,  Mrs.  Brown,  and  I 
were  skimming  along  the  Bosphorus  as  fast  as  three 
splendid  Greek  rowers  could  take  us,  on  our  way  to 
visit  the  Harem  of  Eiza  Pasha.  We  landed  at  To- 
phana,  and,  guarded  by  the  wisdom  and  sagacity  of 
Yassili,  reached  Mysseri's  in  safety.  Here  we  met 
M.  Robolli,  the  Pasha's  friend,  who  was  to  escort  us, 
my  husband  being  too  busy  at  the  Embassy. 

The  streets  of  Pera  were  crowded  with  loungers, 
five  or  six  feet  deep  on  each  side,  which  rendered 
them  almost  impassable.  It  was  the  first  day  of  the 
Catholic  Greek  Easter,  and  the  Greeks  seem  to  like 
nothing  better  than  to  block  up  the  streets  by  staring 
at  the  English  and  French.  It  is  really  hard  work 
to  get  along  in  such  a  crowd,  and  over  loose  and  dirty 
paving-stones. 

This  morning,  in  addition  to  the  holiday-making 
Greeks,  a  string  of  camels,  led  by  a  Turk  in  a  green 
turban,  and  a  diminutive  donkey  in  a  necklace  of  blue 
beads,  stalked  solemnly  through  the  crowd,  heavily 
laden  with  bales  of  wool.  I  do  not  think  I  have  told 

(24:5) 


246  IN    AND   ABOUND   STAMBOUL. 

you  why  the  donkeys  leading  the  camels  are  always 
so  small.  It  is  because  in  crossing  a  deep  ford,  the 
little  fellow  has  to  ride  over  on  the  back  of  one  of 
these  "  ships  of  the  desert :"  his  weight  is  therefore 
of  consequence. 

Mysseri's  was  as  full  of  bustle  as  usual.  Captain 
Haviland,  the  Queen's  messenger,  had  just  arrived, 
and  all  were  pressing  around  him  for  news  from  En 
gland.  He  had  had  a  dreadful  passage :  for  two  days 
the  ship  had  been  beating  about,  unable  to  make  the 
port  of  Malta. 

Almost  all  were  grumbling  at  the  news  of  "  every 
prospect  of  peace."  Numbers  of  officers  have  just 
arrived  fresh  from  England  after  leave  of  absence,  and 
all  our  people  seem  in  such  splendid  trim,  and  to  be 
so  much  at  home  in  this  part  of  the  world  now,  that 
they  feel  indignant  at  being  prevented  from  startling 
the  whole  universe  with  their  "  deeds  of  arms." 

Nobody  believes  in  the  good  faith  of  Russia  ;  least 
of  all  the  Turks.  Our  commissariat  here  is  at  last 
in  perfect  working  order :  there  are  immense  stores 
at  Scutari  and  Kulalee,  ready  for  the  Crimea  or  else 
where  at  a  few  hours'  notice.  Admiral  Slade  says 
that  our  naval  power  just  now  is  something  wonderful. 
I  don't  wonder  at  many  of  our  fine  fellows  who  have 
got  new  commands  being  disappointed. 

However,  we  said  good-bye  to  our  friends  at  Mys 
seri's,  stepped  each  into  a  sedan-chair  (painted  on  the 
back  with  two  comical-looking  British  lions  shaking 
hands  in  the  most  violent  manner),  and  with  M. 
Robolli,  mounted  on  a  gallant  gray,  as  our  escort, 
hurried  uphill  and  downhill  in  the  steep  side-streets 
of  Pera.  Our  stout  Armenian  chairmen  hurried  the 


VISIT  TO  A  PASHA'S  HAREM.  247 

three  sedans  through  still  more  crowded  streets,  over 
the  bridge  of  boats,  and  soon  into  the  silent  regions 
of  Stamboul,  where  vailed  women  were  stealing  noise 
lessly  along,  and  the  closely-latticed  windows  and 
high  walls  gave  one  an  idea  of  a  convent.  Many 
of  these  dark-eyed  ladies  had  a  vailed  black  slave 
behind  them,  carrying  small  baskets  of  hyacinths, 
jonquils,  and  other  flowers,  from  the  flower-markets. 
At  last,  after  interminable  windings  and  turnings, 
we  arrived  at  the  half-open  gates  of  an  immense 
court -yard,  surrounded  by  a  wall  which  would  have 
graced  a  castle  of  old.  I  almost  expected  to  see  a 
horn  hanging  at  the  gate,  with  the  challenge  of  the 
giant  within,  written  in  letters  of  brass.  However, 
M.  Eobolli  rode  in  without  interruption,  and  the 
three  sedans  followed.  Some  Turks  mending  the 
pavement,  stared  at  us  with  great  curiosity.  I  dare 
say  they  thought  the  pasha  had  bought  three  English 
wives. 

We  were  set  down  in  a  large  circular  hall,  covered 
with  matting,  and  were  immediately  surrounded  by 
numbers  of  the  pasha's  retainers,  principally  cavasses 
(a  kind  of  free-lance  footmen)  and  chibouquejees  (pipe- 
bearers).  These  gentlemen  were  entertaining  them 
selves  with  a  most  minute  inspection  of  us,  when 
down  the  vast  staircase  (with  two  flights  d  la  Fon- 
tamebleau)  came  the  Chief  of  the  Eunuchs,  as  hideous 
and  as  angry  as  a  Black  could  possibly  be,  He  dis 
persed  the  mob  right  and  left,  evidently  claiming  us 
as  Harem  visitors.  M.  Kobolli  was  conducted  with 
us  as  far  as  the  first  suite  of  rooms,  and  he  then 
retired  to  the  apartments  of  the  pasha,  leaving  us  in 
the  hands  of  this  "  bird  of  night,"  who  was  now 


24:8  IN    AND   AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

joined  by  two  others,  scarcely  less  monstrous  and 
frightful  than  himself.  These  led  us  through  several 
immensely  large  rooms,  all  covered  with  a  rich  gold- 
colored  matting,  and  with  crimson  divans  at  either 
end.  No  other  furniture,  except  an  occasional  cabi 
net,  filled  with  grotesque  china,  which  I  should  have 
liked  to  stop  and  look  at.  The  ceilings  were  all 
carved  and  painted  barbarously  enough,  and  more  or 
less  richly.  There  were  no  doors,  but  heavy  hangings 
of  crimson  embroidered  cloth  and  tapestry  at  the  en 
trance  of  the  numerous  apartments. 

At  last  our  conductor  stopped  on  the  third  and  last 
floor,  which  is  always  the  principal  in  Turkish  houses, 
on  account  of  the  view.  He  lifted  up  the  crimson 
arras,  and,  with  a  hideous  grin,  invited  us  to  enter. 
Madame  de  Souci  and  Mrs.  Brown,  who  are  both  very 
new  arrivals  at  Constantinople,  were  rather  nervous, 
and  begged  me  to  go  in  first.  I  had  seen  how  sweetly 
gentle  and  kind  the  Turkish  women  are,  and  lifted 
up  the  charmed  curtain  with  much  more  confidence 
and  pleasure  than  I  should  have  entered  an  assembly 
of  Englishwomen.  I  shall  not  easily  forget  the  sight 
which  presented  itself.  We  were  in  the  midst  of  a 
vast  apartment,  with  a  lofty,  dome-like  roof,  carved 
with  gigantic  wreaths  of  flowers  and  pomegranates. 
An  immense  stair-case  was  on  the  other  side,  lighted 
by  a  window  which  reached  from  roof  to  floor ;  and 
in  the  projecting  half-moon  of  the  balusters,  was  a 
beautiful  white -marble  fountain.  The  whole  was 
covered  with  the  same  gold -colored  matting.  Rich 
crimson  divans  under  each  enormous  window  at  either 
end,  and  raised  three  steps.  The  window  looking 
toward  the  streets  of  Stamboul  was  latticed,  with 


VISIT  TO  A  PASHA'S  HA  HEM.  249 

round  peep-holes ;  but  the  other  was  free  from  even 
a  blind,  and  the  beautiful  blue  Bosphorus  and  Sea  of 
Marmora,  with  many  stately  ships  upon  them,  the 
mountains  in  the  distance,  still  glittering  here  and 
there  with  snow, — and  nearer,  the  dark  cypresses,  and 
the  minarets  of  Santa  Sophia  and  numerous  other 
mosques,  lay  in  a  grand  picture  of  quite  inconceiv 
able  beauty  below  it.  Here,  evidently  in  a  dreamy 
kind  of  revery,  sat  the  principal  wife  of  Riza  Pasha, 
surrounded  by  her  slaves,  some  sitting  on  the  steps 
beneath  the  divan  at  her  feet,  others  laughing  to 
gether  and  strolling  about.  She  rose  as  we  ap 
proached,  and  gave  her  hand,  after  the  English  fash 
ion,  to  each.  The  slaves  all  crowded  round  to  look 
at  us,  and  I  assure  you  that  the  variety  and  brilliancy 
of  their  costumes  was  almost  dazzling. 

But  I  must  first  tell  you  the  dress  of  the  great  lady. 
Her  selma,  or  wide-sleeved  under-dress,  (trousers,  etc.) 
was  of  a  delicate  violet-color,  bound  round  the  waist 
by  a  richly  embroidered  scarf;  her  shirt  of  silvery 
Broussa  gauze.  Over  this  was  a  magnificent  jacket 
of  amber- colored  cashmere,  lined  with  the  richest 
sable.  On  her  head  she  wore  a  fez,  bound  round  with 
a  large  plait  of  hair,  which  was  fastened  every  here 
and  there  with  immense  rose-diamonds.  A  purple 
lily -flower  was  stuck  straight  down  this  plait,  and 
shaded  her  forehead.  Her  ear-rings  were  of  a  single 
pendent  emerald,  set  in  a  small  spray  of  brilliants. 
She  must  have  been  of  surpassing  beauty,  and  was 
still  strikingly  handsome,  with  perfectly  regular  fea 
tures,  and  skin  dark  but  clear,  a  brow  and  upper-lip 
which  would  have  graced  a  Roman  empress.  Indeed, 


250  IN   AND   AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

we  made  up  our  minds  at  once  that  it  was  a  Roman 
empress  she  was  like. 

Rising,  she  motioned  us  to  follow  her,  and  the 
principal  slaves  officiously  lifted  the  hangings  of  one 
of  the  numerous  doorways  surrounding  this  immense 
apartment.  We  entered  a  charming  room,  evidently 
a  Turkish  boudoir,  with  an  immense  window,  divans 
all  round  it,  and  the  same  enchanting  view.  Here 
we  three  poor  Englishwomen  sat  in  a  row,  distress 
ingly  anxious  to  converse,  and  make  ourselves  agree 
able,  and  knowing  about  a  dozen  words  between  us, 
including  the  detestable  " bono"  and  " no  bono"  which 
we  were  heartily  sick  and  ashamed  of.  I  tried 
Italian ;  Madame  Riza  shook  her  majestic  head ; 
Madame  de  Souci  murmured  a  few  graceful  words  of 
thanks  in  French ;  at  which  Madame  Riza  solemnly 
uttered  the  word  "  Ouif  and  all  the  slaves,  black  men 
included,  laughed  with  joy  and  pride  at  their  mis 
tress's  accomplishments.  This  was  accounted  for  by 
Riza  Pasha  having  been  Minister  at  Yienna,  and  his 
speaking  French, 

The  hangings  of  the  two  doors  were  constantly 
being  lifted,  and  more  women  as  constantly  trooping 
in  to  peep  at  us.  Some  giggled  and  ran  away  ;  others 
advanced  boldly  up  the  room,  and  evidently  spoke  to 
their  mistress  about  us.  Some  sat  themselves  down 
cross-legged  at  the  further  end  of  the  room,  staring 
at  us  to  their  hearts'  content,  and  talking  about  us  in 
whispers.  We,  meantime,  were  talking  to  each  other 
about  them.  But  presently  a  splendidly  dressed  black 
slave  lifted  the  arras,  and  behind  her  appeared  a  most 
lovely  young  Circassian  lady,  who  was,  as  we  after 
ward  found  out,  the  pasha's  second  wife,  and  a  present 


VISIT   TO    A   PASHA'S   HAREM.  251 

from  the  Sultan.  She  was  very  tall :  but  it  is  im 
possible  to  describe  her  winning  beauty,  or  the  ex 
quisite  grace  of  her  movements.  We  were  all  three 
instantly  charmed  with  her,  and  no  longer  regretted 
their  not  understanding  English  ;  it  was  such  a  pleas 
ure  to  exclaim  every  now  and  then :  "  Oh  you  pretty 
creature  1"  "  Did  you  ever  see  such  a  figure !"  "  Do 
look  at  the  shape  of  her  head  and  throat !"  "  What 
a  lovely  mouth ! — and  just  listen  to  her  voice !" 
"  There's  a  plait  of  glossy  hair !  quite  down  to  her 
feet  it  must  be  when  unbound !"  This  pretty  crea 
ture,  whom  we  instantly  named  "  The  fair  Circassian," 
seemed  to  be  on  excellent  terms  with  her  majestic 
colleague.  They  saluted  each  other  after  their  usual 
fashion,  and  she  bowed  to  us  very  gracefully  when 
we  rose  to  do  her  honor,  saying  something  which 
seemed  to  be  a  welcome.  I  must  now  tell  you  her 
dress.  Her  trousers,  and  the  robe  which  twists  round 
the  feet,  and  trails  behind,  were  of  the  most  bril 
liant  blue,  edged  with  a  little  embroidery  of  white. 
Her  cashmere  jacket  was  of  pale  lilac  (like  the  double 
primroses),  lined  with  a  gold-colored  fur.  A  deli 
cate  lilac  gauze  handkerchief  was  twined  round  her 
head;  among  the  fringe  of  which,  diamond  hearts 
eases,  of  the  natural  size,  glittered  on  golden  stalks, 
which  trembled  at  the  slightest  movement.  Lilac 
slippers,  embroidered  with  seed-pearls,  completed  her 
toilette.  No,  I  must  not  forget  the  shining  plaits  of 
black  hair  which  escaped  from  the  handkerchief  and 
hung  down  behind,  and  a  diamond  of  enormous  size 
and  great  beauty,  which  glittered  on  one  of  her  white 
fingers.  We  decided  that  this  must  be  a  present 
from  the  Sultan,  and  that  it  must  be  also  one  of  the 


252  IN    AND    AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

stones  spoken  of  in  Eastern  fairy  lore  as  "  lighting  the 
chamber,"  etc. 

The  two  wives  now  began  a  little  consultation,  and 
from  the  word  chibouque  being  frequently  mentioned, 
we  easily  understood  the  question  to  be,  as  to  the  pro 
priety  of  offering  them  to  us.  Both  Madame  de  Souci 
and  Mrs.  Brown  declared  that  they  should  die  in  the 
attempt  (they  are  both  very  delicate) ;  but  I,  having 
been  taught  by  no  less  a  person  than  the  Chief  of  the 
Bashi-Bazouks,  declared  that  I  could  take  five  or  six 
whiffs,  not  only  with  resignation,  but  with  pleasure. 
However,  we  were  not  put  to  the  test,  for  it  was  evi 
dently  decided  in  the  negative ;  and  on  the  principal 
wife  clapping  her  hands,  some  richly-dressed  slaves 
brought  in  trays  of  conserves,  and  water  in  crystal 
cups.  On  the  first  tray  is  a  glass  vase  of  the  conserve, 
with  a  beautiful  silver  basket  on  either  side  of  it,  one 
of  which  is  filled  with  spoons  of  the  same  metal.  You 
take  a  spoonful  of  sweetmeat,  and  then  place  the  spoon 
which  you  have  used,  in  the  empty  basket  on  the 
other  side.  Then  another  slave  presents  you  with  a 
richly-cut  cup  of  water.  After  that  the  coffee-bearers 
enter.  One  of  them  holds  a  tray  of  semicircular  form, 
from  which  hangs  a  magnificently  embroidered  and 
fringed  cloth  of  gold.  Other  slaves  then  take  the 
coffee  and  present  it  to  each  guest.  The  outer  cup  is 
exactly  like  an  egg-cup  ;  inside  this,  is  one  of  the  finest 
china,  which  contains  the  beverage.  We  admired 
their  outer  cups  immensely ;  they  were  of  richly- 
chased  gold,  encircled  with  diamonds  about  an  inch 
apart  and  the  size  of  a  large  pea. 

After  drinking  coffee  with  great  gravity  and  de 
corum,  the  empty  cups  being  carried  away  by  the 


253 

other  attendants,  the  principal  wife  again  made  an  at 
tempt  at  conversation  ;  but  after  having  thanked  her; 
and  said  what  a  beautiful  view  it  was,  in  pretty  decent 
Turkish,  I  came  to  a  stand- still,  although  our  gestures 
expressive  of  regret,  were  extraordinarily  eloquent,  I 
must  think,  for  Englishwomen  and  children  of  the 
North.  "Madame  Riza,"  as  I  must  still  call  her, 
wanted  to  know  if  Madame  de  Souci  was  English 
(Inglis).  She  laughed  and  nodded ;  but  still  our  host 
ess  was  evidently  not  satisfied,  having  no  doubt  heard 
the  Vicomte  spoken  of  as  a  Frenchman.  We  were 
sadly  puzzled  how  to  explain  to  her,  but  at  last  I  held 
up  two  of  my  fingers,  making  them  look  as  much  like 
a  loving  couple  as  possible.  One  of  them,  I  showed, 
was  intended  to  represent  Madame  de  Souci — and 
touching  it  I  repeated  the  word  "  Inglis,"  they  all  nod 
ded  and  laughed.  The  other  larger  and  more  impos 
ing  one,  I  touched  with  great  gravity  and  respect, 
uttering  at  the  same  time  the  words  "  Adam  (man), 
fez,  Francais,"  or  "  Her  man,  her  fez,  is  French."  If  I 
had  but  known  the  Turkish  word  "  koja"  (husband) 
then  it  would  have  been  all  right. 

This  making  of  signs  was  very  vexing  and  tantaliz 
ing,  and  the  fair  ladies  of  Stamboul  evidently  thought 
so  too,  for  they  made  signs  to  us  again  that  it  was  very 
grievous  to  them.  Thereupon  arose  another  little  mur 
mured  consultation ;  the  slaves  laughed  and  clapped 
their  hands,  and  two  or  three  of  the  principal  ones 
rushed  out  of  the  room.  We  could  not  think  what 
they  were  about,  and  poor  Madame  de  Souci  became 
very  nervous.  "I  hope  to  goodness  they  won't  un 
dress  us,"  said  she,  coloring  up,  and  every  ringlet 
shaking  with  fright ;  "I  was  told  that  perhaps  they 
22 


251  IN    AND    AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

would."  "  Never  mind  if  they  do,"  said  I,  laughing ; 
"  the  room  is  very  warm,  and  it  would  not  hurt  us. 
We  must  look  out  though  that  they  do  not  divide  our 
garments  among  them,  and  that  they  turn  out  these 
black  men."  Just  at  this  moment,  unluckily  for  the 
fears  of  poor  Madame  de  Souci,  our  hostess  made  a 
sign  to  be  allowed  to  look  at  her  dress,  which 
she  pronounced  to  be  "  chok  ghiizel" — "  very  pretty  ;" 
the  fair  Circassian  then  quietly  lifted  up  Mrs.  Brown's 
dress  to  look  at  her  petticoats.  Poor  Madame  de 
Souci  certainly  thought  that  the  dreaded  moment 
had  arrived.  "But  they  are  such  pretty  creatures," 
said  I,  jesting ;  "it  will  be  like  being  undressed  by 
fairies." 

So  now  the  heavy  arras  was  lifted  once  more,  and 
the  slaves  who  had  just  left,  entered,  bearing  three 
magnificent  chibouques,  and  two  large  shawls.  Which 
of  us  was  to  be  rolled  up  in  them  when  stripped  of  our 
decent  European  garments  ?  But  to  our  relief,  yet  be 
wilderment,  the  slaves  threw  the  shawls  over  their 
mistresses,  over  head  and  all,  so  that  they,  holding  the 
thick  folds  beneath  their  chins,  only  showed  bright 
eyes  and  the  least  tip  of  nose. 

We  were  excessively  diverted  by  an  old  lady  (an 
ugly  likeness  of  Liston,  in  green  trousers  and  jacket) 
wrapping  her  head  and  shoulders  up  with  extraor 
dinary  care  and  anxiety.  "Evidently  something  in 
the  shape  of  mankind  is  coming,"  said  we ;  "  can  it 
be  the  pasha  ?  That  third  chibouque  is  evidently 
intended  for  some  one  of  consequence."  "  I  suppose 
he  won't  offer  to  buy  us  before  his  wives."  "  I  won 
der  if  he  is  good-looking  ?"  "  I  promised  my  husband 


VISIT  TO  A  PASHA'S  HAREM.  255 

to  be  home  at  four  o'clock,"  said  Mrs.  Brown  rather 
nervously. 

All  the  young  and  pretty  slaves  had  now  disap 
peared,  as  silently  and  swiftly  as  so  many  mice,  behind 
one  of  the  hangings,  and  only  the  old  and  plain  ones 
remained.  Two  huge  black  men  entered  and  stood, 
like  sentinels,  mute  and  upright,  by  a  little  white 
fountain  in  the  recess.  "  What  dangerous  person  is 
coming  ?"  said  we  :  "  with  no  cashmeres  to  protect  us, 
how  are  we  to  stand  such  a  blaze  of  manly  beauty  ?" 
We  could  not  help  laughing  in  spite  of  ourselves, 
when  again  the  curtain  was  lifted,  and,  guarded  by 
another  Black,  entered  the  meek,  white -whiskered 
little  beau  of  seventy-five,  our  kind  escort  M.  Robolli. 
After  he  had  kissed  the  ladies'  hands,  held  out  to  him 
beneath  the  cashmeres,  we  said :  "  O  dangerous  Giaour, 
pray  don't  stay  too  long,  nor  attempt  to  peep  under 
that  yellow  and  green  handkerchief  I"  The  old  lady 
however  seemed  determined  not  to  run  any  risk  of 
inspiring  a  hopeless  attachment,  for  nothing  but  the 
tip  of  a  rubicund  nose  was  visible. 

And  now  began  an  animated  conversation.  The 
presence  of  an  interpreter  was  indeed  a  relief.  And 
he  took  joyfully  to  the  jeweled  chibouque  presented 
him,  the  ladies  breathing  out  clouds  of  smoke  in  con 
cert,  and  with  a  most  wonderful  grace.  It  was  cer 
tainly  a  very  striking  scene — the  women-slaves  stand 
ing  and  sitting  around,  in  their  bright  and  varied 
costumes,  the  Blacks  watching  our  venerable  Adonis 
and  listening  with  the  might  of  their  enormous  ears, 
and  innumerable  laughing  eyes  peeping  from  behind 
the  arras,  which  was  in  a  constant  state  of  agitation. 
M.  Kobolli  seemed  quite  to  enjoy  the  state  of  excite- 


256  IN    AND    AROTNI)   STAMBOUL. 

ment  into  which  his  presence  had  thrown  the  harem. 
He  sipped  coffee  out  of  his  jeweled  cup,  and  evidently 
said  many  "obliging  things"  to  the  ladies,  who  re 
ceived  them  very  graciously,  and  then  begged  of  him 
to  tell  us  how  welcome  we  were,  and  what  pleasure 
our  presence  gave  them,  they  touching  their  lips  and 
forehead  at  the  same  time.  We  of  course  expressed 
ourselves  very  sensible  of  their  goodness.  They  then 
begged  we  would  take  off  our  bonnets  and  make  our 
selves  perfectly  at  home,  which  we  did.  They  then 
asked  us  which  we  liked  best,  Stamboul,  or  London, 
or  Paris  ?  I  replied  that  Stamboul  was  most  beau 
tiful,  but  that  at  Paris  and  London  we  had  more  liberty, 
and  the  streets  were  better  to  walk  about  in.  Then  a 
little  murmur  of  delight  from  the  slaves  ran  round 
the  apartment :  "  She  says  Stamboul  is  most  beauti 
ful  !"  They  asked  how  many  children  we  had,  and 
said  that  Edie's  blue  eyes  and  fair  hair  must  be  very 
pretty — why  did  I  leave  her  ?  I  begged  M.  Kobolli 
to  tell  them  that  I  feared  the  variable  climate,  and 
also  that  she  was  left  with  my  mother.  "  Don't  let 
them  think  that  we  English  are  unnatural  mothers." 
We  all  entreated  this. 

"  Madame  Eiza"  then  said  how  sorry  she  was  not 
to  be  able  to  present  her  own  daughter  to  us.  It 
seems  that  she  is  a  lovely  girl  of  sixteen  ;  her  health 
is  usually  good,  but  she  is  subject  at  times  to  fits  of 
depression  and  nervousness,  amounting  almost  to  in 
sanity.  These  attacks  usually  lasted  about  three  days, 
and  this  was  one  of  those  distressing  visitations.  She 
was  lying  quite  alone ;  her  mind,  the  poor  mother 
said,  strangely  wandering,  speaking  of  places  which 
she  had  never  seen  as  if  she  were  there.  Her  old 


VISIT  TO  A  PASHA'S  HABEM.  257 

nurse  was  the  only  person  whom  she  could  bear  to 
see  near  her.  The  mother  seemed  deeply  afflicted 
when  speaking  of  her  beautiful  but  unhappy  daugh 
ter,  who,  M.  Eobolli  says,  is  charming  when  well,  full 
of  grace  and  liveliness.  While  he  was  talking  of  her 
and  condoling  with  the  mother,  whose  whole  counte 
nance  changed  to  an  expression  of  profound  sorrow, 
the  slaves  sitting  at  her  feet  moaned  and  beat  their 
breasts,  and  even  the  black  men  expressed  the  greatest 
sympathy :  I  assure  you  I  saw  tears  in  their  yellow 
eyes. 

It  was  impossible  not  to  be  much  touched,  in  listen 
ing  to  this  account  of  the  beauty  and  gentleness  and 
goodness  of  the  poor  young  girl,  alone  in  her  misfor 
tune,  and  seemingly  beyond  cure  (at  least  here  at 
Stamboul.)  Her  mother  looked  the  image  of  sorrow 
ful  despair,  her  lips  trembled,  and  she  could  not  utter 
another  word.  Wrapping  her  rich  mantle  round  her, 
she  sat  in  an  attitude  of  queenly  dejection,  which  Mrs. 
Siddons  might  have  envied.  These  Eastern  women 
are  wonderful  for  grace.  Of  course  we  felt  for,  as 
well  as  admired  her,  and  begged  M.  Robolli  to  say 
how  sorry  we  were  to  hear  of  her  sweet  young  daugh 
ter's  affliction.  She  thanked  us  very  earnestly  and  with 
a  simple  grace  quite  indescribable,  a  grace  which 
makes  you  feel  at  once  that  you  never  beheld  any 
thing  like  it  before.  I  said :  "  It  is  a  very  great  sorrow 
for  you,  but  there  are  others  in  the  world  still  more 
unhappy :  many  who  have  lost  all  their  children,  and 
many  also  have  ungrateful  ones."  She  replied:  "I 
often  think  that,  and  blame  myself  for  giving  way 
to  so  much  grief.  My  child  is  good  and  lovely  when 
she  is  well.  I  still  have  her  with  me,  and  Allah  may 
22"x~ 


258  IN    AND   ABOUND   STAMBOUL. 

one  day  please  to  restore  her  health  and  mind  en 
tirely."  Here  she  puffed  away  vigorously  at  her 
chibouque,  and,  putting  her  hand  on  her  heart,  said 
that  it  was  the  very  best  of  comforters  in  sorrow.  We 
told  her  the  story  of  poor  Sir  Edmund  Lyons,  losing 
his  brave  son  just  in  the  moment  of  victory ;  and  two 
or  three  even  sadder  still  of  this  war.  She  said : 
"  How  much  England  has  suffered  I"  and  several  of 
the  slaves  cried. 

"We  then  changed  the  conversation,  which  was  be 
coming  so  melancholy ;  and  they  spoke  of  their  summer 
palace  on  the  Bosphorus,  hoping  that  when  they  re 
moved  there  we  should  visit  them.  "  It  is  very  lovely," 
they  said ;  "  there  are  hanging  gardens  with  a  stream 
leaping  from  rock  to  rock  amongst  the  orange-trees ; 
and  the  birds  are  always  singing  in  the  shade.  There 
are  also  beautiful  fountains,  and  rose-gardens ;  and  we 
think  you  will  like  it."  We  were  just  saying  what 
pleasure  it  would  give  us  to  visit  them  in  their  little 
Paradise,  when  a  slave,  richly  attired,  entered.  She 
kissed  the  hem  of  "  Madame  Riza's"  garment,  touched 
her  forehead  with  it,  and  then  standing  upright,  with 
her  arms  folded  over  her  breast,  evidently  delivered  a 
message.  "  Madame  Eiza"  explained  to  M.  Eobolli. 
"  I  am  sorry  to  say  I  must  go,"  he  said ;  "  another 
Turkish  lady  is  coming  to  pay  a  visit,  and  although 
Madame  Riza  admits  me  with  her  husband's  consent, 
he  being  accustomed  to  European  manners,  any  other 
pasha  might  object  to  it ;  and  she  would  not  risk  get 
ting  her  friend  into  trouble."  So  off  went  M.  Eobolli, 
and  off  went  the  fair  ladies'  cashmeres,  and  "  Madame 
Listori's"  yellow  and  green  handkerchief,  and  in  ran 
all  the  pretty  young  slaves  again,  like  a  troop  of 


259 

fawns.  I  never  saw  so  many  women  together  in  my 
life  before ;  there  seemed  to  be  no  end  of  them. 

There  was  one  little  girl  of  extraordinary  beauty, 
about  twelve,  and  another  a  little  older,  almost  as 
lovely.  I  never  saw  any  living  being,  or  any  picture, 
so  beautiful  as  the  youngest.  They  told  us  that  she 
was  a  daughter  of  the  pasha,  by  a  slave  who  died  last 
year,  and  who  was  also  very  lovely.  The  wives 
seemed  as  fond  of  this  little  houri  as  if  she  had  been 
their  own  child,  and  were  quite  pleased  at  our  great 
admiration  of  her.  Poor  child !  I  wonder  what  her  fate 
will  be. 

While  I  was  holding  her  little  hand  in  mine,  and 
looking  at  her  lovely  dark  eyes  with  their  deep  fringes 
(you  learn  what  "eyelashes"  mean  here),  in  came  the 
belle,  for  whose  sake  M.  Kobolli  was  banished  from  the 
women's  apartments.  Although  not  beautiful,  I  think 
she  was  one  of  the  most  striking  persons  I  ever  be 
held.  She  had  none  of  the  almost  invariable  softness 
of  the  Turkish  women,  but  a  face  of  the  most  marked 
talent,  and  decision,  and  satire,  and  with  a  decisive  au 
thoritative  manner  to  correspond,  and  yet  perfectly 
courtly,  and  with  that  exquisite  ease  and  grace  which 
is  so  enchanting  in  Turkish  women.  She  had  piercing 
black  eyes,  of  immense  size  and  lustre,  with  thick  eye 
brows  ;  and  hair  of  so  raven  a  hue  that  I  instantly 
thought  of  the  younger  and  more  nattering  portraits 
of  Charles  II.  A  large,  dark  mole  on  the  somewhat 
sallow  cheek,  made  the  picture  still  more  striking,  and 
added  to  this,  she  had  tied  a  rich  lace  handkerchief 
round  her  neck,  just  after  the  fashion  of  a  beau  of  the 
Vandyke  school,  the  ends  hanging  down.  She  held  a 
lighted  Havana  cigar  between  her  fingers,  and  we  ad- 


260  IN    AND   ABOUND   STAMBOUL. 

mired  her  rich  lace  and  ruffles  as  she  smoked  with  the 
air  of  a  Rochester.  Her  dress  and  trousers  were  of 
amber-colored  silk,  her  waistcoat  blue,  embroidered 
richly  in  silver ;  round  her  slight  waist  she  wore  a 
many-colored  cashmere  scarf,  into  which  a  massive 
gold  chain  and  Turkish  watch  was  comfortably  tucked. 
Her  hair  was  dressed  in  what  they  tell  me  is  the  old 
Turkish  fashion,  cut  in  steps,  as  it  were,  down  the 
forehead — about  an  inch  long  by  the  parting,  below 
that  a  little  longer,  by  the  ear  longer  still ;  which  has 
a  very  curious  effect,  and  gives  a  rather  masculine 
look.  A  light-blue  handkerchief  was  twisted  grace 
fully  round  her  head,  fastened  on  with  six  or  seven 
splendid  stars  of  brilliants.  Between  the  two  centre 
ones,  on  the  forehead,  was  a  long  piece  of  white  muslin, 
about  the  breadth  of  one's  hand,  which,  thrown  back 
over  the  head,  fell  nearly  to  her  heels  behind.  A 
ruby  of  enormous  size  flashed  and  glistened  on  the 
finger. 

To  us  she  seemed  a  striking  "  picture  of  the  East," 
as  she  sat  pleasantly  chatting  with  Riza  Pasha's  wives. 
She  and  the  chief  wife  sat,  or  rather  reclined,  on  the 
divan.  The  beautiful  Circassian  seemed  to  feel  cold, 
and  half  sat,  half  knelt  by  the  enormous  mangale  (a 
kind  of  brazen  tripod,  filled  with  charcoal)  in  the  cen 
tre  of  the  room.  I  thought  I  had  never  seen  any 
thing  more  lovely  and  graceful,  as  she  dreamily 
smoked  her  chibouque,  and  her  great  diamond  flashed 
on  her  white  hand,  and  she  lifted  up  her  head  now  and 
then  to  join  in  the  conversation  of  the  other  two,  or  to 
laugh  in  the  low,  musical  tone  which  had  charmed  us 
so  much  at  first. 

Our  visit  seemed  very  like  a  tale  of  the  Arabian 


VISIT  TO  A  PASHA'S  HAREM.  261 

Nights,  especially  when  the  slaves  entered  with  tam 
bourines,  and,  sitting  down  cross-legged  at  the  farther 
end  of  the  apartment,  entertained  us  with  a  concert 
of  "  music."  A  more  dreadful  noise  it  is  scarcely 
possible  to  imagine;  you  hardly  know  whether  to 
laugh  or  to  cry.  A  slave  beats  the  tambourine,  and 
leads  the  discord  with  her  harsh  and  grating  voice. 
The  rest  take  up  the  howl  one  after  another,  and  yell 
louder  and  louder  as  the  story  which  they  are  reciting 
progresses.  The  fair  Circassian  seemed  to  take  espe 
cial  delight  in  the  performance  ;  and,  whilst  searching 
for  bright  little  bits  of  charcoal  in  the  mangale  to  re 
light  her  chibouque,  kept  prompting  them  with  verses 
which  they  seemed  to  have  forgotten — to  our  great 
misery  and  regret ;  for  ears,  teeth,  and  hair  were  set  on 
an  edge  and  bristling  up  the  wrong  way,  at  this  ex 
cruciating  "  treat." 

It  was  at  last  put  a  stop  to  by  two  things :  first,  by 
Mrs.  Brown's  sinking  back  on  the  divan,  pale  as  death, 
overcome  by  the  noise  and  the  mingled  fumes  of 
charcoal  and  chibouques ;  and  secondly,  by  the 
entrance  of  a  very  fine  baby  with  his  two  nurses.  He 
looked  so  odd  to  us  in  his  little  trousers  and  fur 
jacket,  and  wearing  a  tiny  fez,  ornamented  with  a 
loop  of  diamonds.  This  young  gentleman  belonged 
to  the  visitor  lady,  and  stretched  out  his  arms  to  her 
very  prettily.  He  was  not  at  all  shy  with  the  Turkish 
ladies,  or  with  the  slaves,  but  evidently  considered  us 
veritable  "  Giaours,"  and  would  not  come  near  us. 
The  nurse  who  carried  him  was  a  lovely  young 
woman :  she  was  dressed  in  trousers  and  jacket  of  a 
bright  green,  and  wore  on  her  head  a  pale-yellow 
handkerchief,  fastened  with  a  large  diamond.  The 


262  IN    AND    AROUND    STAMHOUL. 

other  was  an  immense  black  woman,  dressed  entirely 
in  scarlet  silk,  with  a  little  edging  of  white,  and  a 
snow-white  handkerchief  bound  round  her  woolly 
head.  These  two  " nurses"  would  certainly  create  a 
sensation  in  Hyde  Park.  They  appeared  devoted  to 
the  baby. 

But  now  our  imperial-looking  hostess  made  signs 
that  we  were  to  eat,  at  which  announcement  we  were 
not  at  all  sorry,  the  fresh  air  of  the  Bosphorus  having 
given  us  famous  appetites.  We  followed  her  accord 
ingly  into  the  lofty  apartment,  with  the  domelike 
painted  roof;  the  fair  Circassian  leading  me  affec 
tionately  by  the  hand,  and  the  pasha's  lovely  little 
daughter  gently  conducting  Madame  de  Souci  and  Mrs. 
Brown.  The  principal  slaves  went  before  to  lift  the 
arras,  and  a  motley  group  followed  behind.  We 
could  hardly  believe  the  scene  to  be  real :  "  It  is  so 
like  an  Arabian  Night !"  we  kept  exclaiming,  as  we 
crossed  Avith  the  brilliant  group  over  the  golden  mat 
ting  of  that  vast  apartment. 

At  the  entrance  of  the  dining-room  stood  two  Arab 
slaves,  richly  attired.  To  each  lady,  as  she  entered,  one 
of  these  held  a  beautiful  silver  bowl,  while  the  other 
poured  rose-water  over  her  hands  from  a  vase  of  the 
same  richly-chased  material.  Two  little  slave-girls 
presented  fine  napkins,  the  ends  embroidered  in  gold, 
on  which  we  each  shook  the  rose-water  from  our 
fingers.  The  dining-room  was  a  most  luxurious 
apartment,  closely  latticed,  for  it  looked  into  the 
streets  of  Stamboul,  but  cheerful,  and  rich  in  crimson 
divans  and  carved  and  painted  flowers  on  walls  and 
ceiling.  All  had  been  done  that  was  possible  to  make 
the  cage  bearable.  Eiza  Pasha's  harem  is,  I  am  told 


VISIT  TO  A  PASHA'S  HAREM.  263 

one  of  the  most  "fashionable,"  which  accounted  for 
our  seeing  a  European  dining-table,  adorned  with  a 
handsome  centre-piece,  and  four  beautiful  vases  of 
flowers  and  fruit,  after  the  French  fashion. 

The  dining-service  was  of  rare  and  beautiful  china ; 
the  silver  knives  and  forks  were  extremely  handsome ; 
the  servietti  delicately  fine;  the  flowers  exquisitely 
arranged,  and  mingled  with  oranges  and  lemons,  in 
the  Eastern  fashion ;  the  slaves  were  standing  round, 
three  or  four  deep,  awaiting  our  slightest  sign :  we 
felt  still  more  in  the  land  of  dreams. 

First  of  all  they  placed  to  each  guest  a  sparkling 
water-bottle  and  glass.  Then  a  fine  china  plate  con 
taining  a  flat  roll  of  a  kind  of  rye-bread,  called  semeet, 
quite  new  and  warm,  and  covered  with  a  small  seed, 
which,  not  being  a  canary  or  a  linnet,  I  objected  to. 
Then  soup  was  served — a  great  novelty  in  a  harem :  it 
was  most  excellent — chicken  and  vermicelli.  Then 
came  a  dish  of  pilauf,  of  chicken  and  rice,  done  brown. 
I  sat  next  to  the  chief  wife,  on  her  right  hand ;  as  the 
slave  held  the  dish,  she  pointed  out  the  nicest  pieces, 
begging  of  me  to  take  them.  The  fair  Circassian  sat 
opposite  to  me.  I  was  curious  to  see  if  they  really 
seemed  to  like  the  modern  innovation  of  knives  and 
forks.  For  the  first  few  minutes  they  used  them — 
evidently  to  do  as  we  did ;  but  the  Circassian  beauty, 
failing  to  secure  the  particular  piece  of  chicken  she 
coveted  with  a  troublesome  fork  and  spoon,  threw 
those  incompetent  auxiliaries  down,  and  grubbed  suc 
cessfully,  and  to  her  entire  satisfaction,  with  her 
fingers.  She  then  looked  at  me  and  laughed ;  and 
showing  me  hoAV  to  take  a  piece  of  bread  between  my 
fingers,  begged  us  to  eat  a  la  Turque,  which  they  were 


264:  IN   AND   AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

all  doing  themselves,  fast  and  furious ;  and,  to  please 
them,  we  accordingly  picked  a  few  chicken-bones  with 
our  fingers. 

"We  had  all  three  been  enchanted  with  the  fair 
Circassian,  as  I  have  told  you ;  with  her  beauty,  her 
winning  yet  lofty  manners,  and  exquisite  grace.  We 
had  seen  her  smoke,  and  admired  her  still.  We 
had  even  forgiven  her  for  loving  the  barbarous  noise 
in  the  " concert  of  music;"  but  to  see  her  lick  her 
fingers  up  to  the  last  joint  after  each  dish — to  see 
her  lick  her  favorite  tortoise-shell  spoon  bright  after 
successive  and  never-to-be-believed  enormous  plate- 
fuls  of  sweet  pancakes  daubed  with  honey,  and  tarts 
too  luscious  for  the  Knave  of  Hearts ! — this  was  too 
much  for  Venus  herself  to  have  done  with  impunity ! 
We  were  perfectly  disenchanted  long  before  the  feast 
was  over.  The  rest  were  not  quite  so  bad,  (excepting 
"  Madame  Liston,"  who  might  as  well  have  had  a 
trough  at  once) ;  but  we  began  to  feel  rather  sick  after 
the  first  few  dishes  were  dispatched,  and  the  animal 
passions  of  some  of  the  ladies  began  to  be  roused  by 
their  favorite  sweets  and  jellies,  which  they  tore  to 
pieces  with  their  fingers,  and  threw  down  their  throats 
in  large  lumps.  The  jester  waited  at  table,  present 
ing  the  principal  dishes  with  jokes  which  caused 
bursts  of  laughter  from  the  ladies  and  the  slaves  in 
attendance,  who  seem  perfectly  at  home,  and  on  very 
free-and-easy  terms  with  their  mistresses,  notwith 
standing  their  complete  submission  to  them.  The 
jester  was  a  wild  and  most  extraordinary-looking 
woman,  with  an  immensity  of  broad  humor  and  droll 
ery  in  her  face.  We  thought  it  quite  as  well  that 
we  could  not  understand  the  jokes  at  which  the 


265 

fair  Circassian,  between  the  intervals  of  licking  her 
fingers  and  spoon,  and  popping  tit-bits  on  our 
plates,  laughed  so  complacently,  and  which  some 
times  obliged  the  Arabs  and  eunuchs  at  the  door  to 
dive  under  the  arras  to  conceal  their  uncontrollable 
fits  of  mirth. 

It  was  certainly  a  most  singular  dinner-party.  The 
dishes  of  course  were  innumerable ;  the  chicken  and 
rice,  and  the  cabeb  we  enjoyed  ;  the  rest  were  very 
sweet  and  very  fat ;  and  we  were  delighted  when  our 
hostess  rose,  and  again  the  refreshing  rose-water  was 
handed  to  us. 

We  then  returned  to  the  luxurious  divan  of  the 
smaller  room.  Again  the  slaves  handed  coffee  in 
jeweled  cups  ;  again  the  fair  Circassian  looked  dreamy 
and  lovely,  hanging  fondly  over  her  chibouque ;  again 
we  admired  the  blue  Bosphorus,  and  the  distant 
mountains,  and  the  dark  cypresses  of  Stamboul ;  again 
we  asked  for  M.  Robolli,  and  again  the  fair  ladies  were 
enveloped  in  their  cashmeres;  the  Blacks  standing 
mute,  watchful,  and  listening.  We  repeated  our 
thanks  and  adieus ;  the  slaves  lifted  the  arras.  M. 
Robolli  kissed  the  hands  of  the  kind  and  vailed  ladies. 
The  Blacks  conducted  us  down  the  broad  staircase, 
crowding  boisterously  round  us,  and  muttering  some 
thing  about  bakshisli. 

Our   visit   to    the   Harem   was   over.     M.  Robolli 
mounted  his  "  gallant  gray,"  and  rode  back  with  us 
over  the  Bridge  of  Boats.     It  seemed  as  if  we  had  had 
a  dream. 
23 


LETTER    XXX. 

THE  FRANKS — ARRIVAL  OF  SPRING — LADIES'  DRESSES — CHANGEABLE 
CLIMATE — OMAR  PASHA  AND  THE  BELIEF  OF  KARS — KNAVERY  OF 
THE  PASHAS THE  GREEK  EASTER — FESTIVAL  DAYS  AT  CONSTANTI 
NOPLE—CHANGE  FOR  A  SOVEREIGN — A  LONELY  HOUSE — A  STORM. 

Orta-kioy,  March  28th,  1856. 
My  dear  Mr.  Hornby : 

I  am  afraid  that,  although  I  forward  my  usual 
note,  it  will  not  leave  Constantinople  to-morrow.  The 
weather  has  been  so  stormy  at  sea  that  much  confusion 
is  made  in  the  arrival  and  departure  of  the  mails. 
Tuesday's  steamer  has  not  yet  arrived.  We  heard 
yesterday,  that  she  had  broken  her  screw,  and  put  in 
to  the  port  of  Syra,  but  do  not  know  if  it  be  true  or 
not.  The  Frank  population  here  amuse  themselves 
by  spreading  false  reports  upon  every  possible  subject. 
Nothing  is  too  serious  to  escape  them.  Any  one  ex 
pecting  husband,  mother,  wife,  or  child,  is  considered 
but  a  fitter  subject  for  their  merciful  "wit."  I  do 
riot  wonder  at  the  Turks'  horror  of  a  Frank.  I  said 
the  other  day  to  Kani  Pasha,  that  I  trusted  the  Sultan 
did  not  class  the  English  people  amongst  such  riffraff, 
for  that  we  should  be  ashamed  to  own  them.  They 
are  often  saying  at  Pera,  that  such  and  such  a  ship  is 
lost  with  all  on  board,  merely  to  frighten  those  who 
are  expecting  friends  or  relations  by  it. 

I  told  you  in  my  letter  of  Sunday  that  all  the  snow 
had  disappeared.  On  Monday  the  south  wind  set  in, 
and  we  had  a  most  delicious  day,  just  like  the  middle 

(266) 


FERIDJEES.  267 

of  May  in  England.  We  went  to  the  harem  of  Kisa 
Pasha,  and  nothing  could  equal  the  sunny  beauty  of 
the  Bosphorus.  Yesterday  was  also  a  lovely  day,  the 
sea  blue  and  sparkling,  and  the  villages  glittering 
in  the  sunshine.  It  was  so  clear  that  I  could  plainly 
see  the  ruins  of  an  old  castle  far  back  on  the  Asian 
side.  Fuad  and  I  sunned  ourselves  in  the  garden  with 
the  Armenian  girls.  I  gathered  a  bunch  of  violets  and 
primroses,  to  remind  me  of  England ;  and  Master 
Fuad,  always  full  of  mischief,  hunted  the  cats  and  but 
terflies,  sunning  themselves  on  the  borders.  Turkish 
ladies,  in  their  telekis,  passed  by,  paying  visits,  I  sup 
pose.  Three  of  them  alighted  by  our  gate  to  walk  up 
the  hill  and  escape  the  shaking  of  their  crazy  vehicles. 
I  could  not  help  noticing  the  brilliancy  of  their  dresses, 
even  here.  One  of  them  wore  a  blue  feridjee,  bor 
dered  with  broad,  cherry-colored  velvet ;  another,  an 
amber-colored  feridjee,  shot  with  white;  the  third,  an 
exquisite  violet,  edged  with  black  velvet.  The  best 
feridjees  are  made  of  the  richest  shot  poplin,  so  you 
may  fancy  how  beautiful  the  splendid  colors  are  on 
a  sunny  day.  The  commoner  feridjees  are  made  of 
a  kind  of  merino.  Being  such  a  lovely  day,  I  saw  a 
good  many  Turkish  ladies  yesterday  passing  by  our 
road,  with  their  armed  blacks  to  "guard  them." 

The  Bosphorus 'looked  most  lovely,  and  such  a 
fresh,  mild  breeze  was  blowing  that  I  almost  wished 
Edith  was  here;  it  seemed  impossible  for  any  thing 
to  be  more  pleasant  and  healthy.  A  fine  English 
man-of-war  carne  up,  with  all  her  sails  set.  She  was 
going  slowly  toward  the  Black  Sea,  perhaps  to  the 
Crimea.  It  was  a  beautiful  sight.  A  brig  has  also 
anchored  just  off  our  little  pier.  She  has  the  most 


268  IN    AND    AKOUND    STAMBOUL. 

musical  bell  on  board.  It  sounds  wonderfully  sweet, 
in  the  night,  to  hear  an  English  ship's  bell  ringing 
out  the  half  hours,  and  the  (C  All's  well,"  and  to  know 
that  they  are  so  near  us.  I  dare  say  they  little  think 
that  English  are  so  near  them. 

We  are  in  the  Turkish  quarter,  and  from  the  Bos- 
phorus  it  looks  one  cloister  of  latticed  Turkish  houses. 
Yesterday  it  was  so  much  summer  that  a  party  of 
"arnes  damnces"  were  flying  up  and  down,  and  the 
Bosphorus  was  covered  with  caiques.  Most  pro- 
vokingly  the  wind  changed  in  the  night.  The  in 
creased  cold  awoke  me,  and  I  put  my  tiger-coat  on  the 
bed,  quite  shivering.  This  morning  it  is  winter  again, 
— a  bitter  wind  whistling  down  from  the  north,  and  a 
blinding  sleet  terrifying  man  and  beast.  My  poor 
friend,  the  shepherd,  has  to  bring  all  his  shivering 
lambs  down  from  the  mountains,  where  they  were 
skipping  in  sunshine  yesterday. 

This  is  indeed  a  trying  climate.  I  am  glad  to  say 
that  Edmund  has  not  to  return  to-night,  as  he  dines 
with  Lord  Stratford,  to  talk  over  some  matters  con 
nected  with  the  Loan  Commission,  and  will  sleep 
there.  Lord  Stratford  is  very  much  depressed  about 
the  affair  of  Kars :  all  the  blame  seems  to  be  put  on 
his  shoulders,  as  all  the  disasters  of  the  war  were  upon 
Lord  Eaglan's.  Poor  Lord  Kaglan  broke  his  heart 
(they  all  say  here),  and,  after  he  was  dead,  the  papers 
made  him  a  hero,  and  spoke  of  his  "devotion  to  his 
army,"  etc.  I  dare  say  he  was  not  faultless;  but 
every  thing  relating  to  military  matters  seems  to  be 
in  such  confusion,  that  the  wonder  is  that  we  have  not 
more  signally  failed  than  we  have. 

About  Kars  I  am  enabled  to  tell  you,  from  certain 


ON    DIT    ABOUT    KAKS.  269 

information,  that  Omar  Pasha's  visit  to  the  Crimea, 
many  months  ago,  was  for  the  express,  though  unde 
clared,  purpose,  of  entreating  assistance  for  General 
Williams  of  both  the  English  and  French  command- 
ers-in-chief.  It  now  seems  that  for  two  or  three 
months  before  the  taking  of  Sebastopol,  both  Pelissier 
and  General  Simpson  were  in  a  state  of  more  than 
little  anxiety  as  to  the  issue  of  the  siege.  At  one 
time  they  really  began  to  think  that  the  English  and 
French  army  ran  a  good  chance  of  being  driven  into 
the  sea.  Afterward,  the  great  inferiority,  instead  of 
superiority,  of  the  Kussians  came  out.  But  just  at 
this  moment  of  panic  and  anxiety,  Omar  Pasha  en 
treated  help  for  the  relief  of  Kars  both  of  the  English 
and  French  generals.  He  told  them  that  his  men 
were  dispirited,  in  deadly  fear  of  the  Russians,  and 
that,  unaided,  he  could  never  get  them  up  to  face 
the  enemy.  But  he  said,  "  Give  me  only  a  couple 
of  regiments  of  English,  and  as  many  French,  and 
I  will  undertake  success.  Alone,  and  with  my  raw 
recruits,  who  have  never  been  under  fire,  I  repeat,  I 
can  do  nothing."  However,  so  dispiriting  and  anxious 
was  the  state  of  things  before  Sebastopol,  that  neither 
of  the  generals  in  command  would  consent  to  part 
with  a  single  regiment,  not  knowing  what  might  hap 
pen  from  minute  to  minute.  You  may  depend  upon 
this  being  true. 

French,  English,  Turks,  all  seem  to  have  blun 
dered.  The  other  day,  coming  down  in  the  steam 
boat,  we  noticed  a  pasha's  caique.  "  Ah,  these  pa 
shas  !"  said  a  Turkish  soldier,  standing  by,  to  Mr. 
Wilkin.  "  Why,  what's  the  matter  with  the  pashas?" 
said  Mr.  Wilkin  (who  speaks  Turkish  perfectly). 


270  IN    AND   ABOUND    STAMBOUL. 

"  What  harm  do  the  pashas  do  you  ?"  "  You  would 
not  ask  if  you  had  been  at  Kars,  as  I  have,"  said  the 
man.  "  When  the  English  general  prevented  their 
stealing  our  money,  they  began  to  steal  our  rations ; 
and  we  should  soon  have  been  starved,  only  the 
general  found  it  out,  and  saw  each  division  fed,  with 
his  own  eyes,  every  day."  This  poor  fellow  had  been 
sent  home  sick,  before  the  capitulation,  but  described 
the  misery  and  starvation  as  very  dreadful.  What 
the  Turkish  soldier  will  bear  without  a  murmur,  is 
something  almost  incredible.  Even  here,  at  Constan 
tinople,  it  makes  your  heart  ache  to  look  at  such  un 
happy,  dispirited  creatures,  shivering  in  canvas  coats 
(cloth  ones  being  paid  for),  and  with  swords  by  their 
sides  so  paltry  and  worthless  that,  as  they  know,  they 
would  probably  bend  or  break  with  the  first  blow. 
If  a  poor  Turkish  soldier  gets  thirty  piastres  of  his 
pay  (about  five  shillings)  he  is  wild  with  joy,  when 
perhaps  a  whole  year  is  owing  to  him,  of  which  he  is 
too  ignorant  to  keep  an  account,  and  would  not  get  it 
if  he  were  otherwise. 

The  very  worst  of  the  pashas  seem  to  have  been 
concerned  in  the  affairs  of  Kars.  One  of  them,  must 
have  been  bad  indeed,  having  been  disgraced  and 
sent  back  to  Constantinople,  in  the  outset,  for  rob 
bing  his  unfortunate  soldiers.  The  general  topic  of 
conversation  here  is,  of  course,  "  Peace  or  War." 
Peace,  however,  from  the  tenor  of  the  latest  tele 
graphs,  seems  to  be  generally  expected ;  although, 
when  looking  on  the  Bosphorus  and  Sea  of  Marmora, 
the  great  war-ships  of  England  and  France,  with  gun 
boats  here,  and  formidable  frigates  there,  give  much 
more  the  idea  of  giants  resting  to  renew  the  strife. 


RELIGIOUS    FESTIVALS.  271 

Mrs.  Mysseri,  who,  as  I  told  you,  is  great  in  poli 
tics,  is  deeply  concerned  for  England's  glory.  "  To 
think,"  she  exclaimed,  in  a  burst  of  indignation,  "that 
we  should  be  made  to  leave  off,  just  as  we  are  pre 
pared  to  do  so  much,  and  when  we  know  every  thing, 
just  because  those  French  have  got  nothing  to  go  on 
with !  And  to  think,  that  they've  got  all  the  glory, 
and  we've  done  nothing,  but  sacrifice  thousands  of 
men  and  millions  of  money,  and  made  fools  of  our 
selves  into  the  bargain !"  This  is  Mrs.  Mysseri's 
notion  of  the  peace. 

Monday  was  the  first  day  of  the  Roman  Catholic 
Greek  Easter;  so  they  had  brought  Mrs.  Mysseri 
beautiful  branches  of  hyacinths,  jonquils,  and  other 
spring  flowers.  I  bought  a  lovely  bunch  at  Stamboul, 
in  a  pretty  Turkish  shop,  where  the  baskets  of  fruit 
and  flowers  were  all  trimmed  with  myrtle  and  laurel 
leaves,  and  tomatoes,  after  the  usual  pretty  fashion. 
The  streets  were  crowded  with  Greeks  in  gala  dress. 
The  general  Greek  Easter  does  not  commence  for 
some  time.  It  is  now  the  Lent  of  the  Protestant 
population,  and  a  strict  fast.  I  see  crowds  going  to 
and  from  church  twice  a  day,  even  to  the  caiquejees 
and  porters.  The  old  watchman  chants  what  the 
services  of  the  day  will  be,  in  the  street,  opposite 
the  different  Greek  houses.  The  different  days  here 
are  quite  perplexing.  First  comes  our  Christmas- 
day,  and  all  the  English  ships  dressed  with  flags ; 
then  the  Greek  Christmas;  then  the  Armenian  Christ 
mas.  Then  the  three  different  New -Year's  days; 
then  the  Jewish  Passover ;  then  Mahomet's  birth-day, 
and  all  the  minarets  glistening  with  lamps.  On  Fri- 
rlays  you  hear  the  cannon  thundering  that  the  Sultan 


272  IN   AND   AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

has  gone  to  mosque :  it  is  the  Mohammedan  Sunday, 
and  the  Turks  shut  up  their  shops  and  walk  out, 
carrying  their  little  children.  In  the  evening  the 
miserable  cottages  of  the  Jews  here  are  adorned  with 
lamps,  hung  out  in  expectation  of  their  hoped-for 
Messiah.  The  valley  quite  twinkles  with  them,  as 
there  are  many  Jews  at  Orta-kioy,  and  thus  you  may 
count  the  different  families  on  a  dark  Friday  evening. 
Saturday  is  their  Sabbath,  as  you  know,  and  as  a  Jew 
is  our  fishmonger,  we  never  get  fish  on  that  day. 

Then  comes  our  Sunday,  but  we  have  no  sweet- 
sounding  church  bells.  There  is  a  service  kindly 
read  by  the  chaplain  of  the  "Queen,"  in  a  small  room 
of  a  house  on  the  other  hill  of  Orta-kioy,  but  I  have 
never  been ;  people  talk  of  almost  fainting  from  heat 
and  closeness,  the  room  being  heated  with  a  stove ; 
and  this  after  a  long,  muddy  walk  up-hill,  seemed  to 
me  hardly  safe  in  such  a  climate.  I  remember  many 
of  the  beautiful  chants  of  our  church,  and  sing  them 
every  Sunday  morning  to  the  old  piano.  The  poor 
sick  Armenian  girl,  Oscu,  likes  to  stand  in  the  garden 
and  hear  me  sing  the  Te  Deum  when  my  window  is 
open.  She  came  in,  the  first  morning ;  but  when  I 
made  a  sign  that  it  was  a  prayer  of  our  country,  she 
sat  down  quietly,  and  did  not  speak,  or  rather  sing, 
another  word.  They  are  kind,  affectionate  people, 
simple  and  unpretending  as  little  children.  But  to 
return  to  the  different  days.  First  the  Carnival  of 
the  Periotes  or  Franks,  then  the  Greek  Carnival,  and 
then  the  Armenian  ;  the  Roman  Catholic  Armenians 
beginning  on  the  day  when  the  Protestants  of  the 
Greek  Church  end,  and  the  Roman  Catholic  Greeks 
beginning  their  Easter  before  the  Protestant  brother- 


CHANGK    FOR    A    SOVEREIGN.  273 

hood  have  half  got  through  Lent.  All  this,  with 
their  different  saints'-days,  fast-days,  and  feast-days,  is 
almost  as  bewildering  as  counting  your  change  at 
Constantinople. 

For  change  for  a  sovereign  you  may  get  a  quantity 
of  dirty  paper  of  the  value  of  a  few  pence,  German 
kreutzers  innumerable,  an  English  shilling,  and  a 
huge  Turkish  crown,  mixed  with  francs  and  paras,  to 
one's  utter  bewilderment.  The  Turkish  gold  coin  is 
miserably  thin  and  bad,  quite  illustrative  of  the  fallen 
state  of  the  country.  Our  English  sovereigns  look 
fair  and  beautiful  amongst  them.  I  always  say  that 
the  English  gold  so  charms  Vassili  when  his  wages 
are  paid,  that  for  a  moment  the  exquisite  "  chink," 
makes  him  quite  forget  the  "robbery  in  Egypt." 
He  was  paid  yesterday,  and  happy  and  gracious  for 
the  day. 

But  I  must  say  good-night.  It  seems  strange  to  be 
in  this  lonely  house,  alone,  with  only  two  Greeks 
sleeping  below.  I  was  rather  nervous  when  we  first 
came  here,  and  Edmund  had  to  stay  all  night  at 
Therapia.  I  used  to  practice  how  to  cock  the  revolver 
before  going  to  my  room.  Now  I  do  not  mind  it  in 
the  least,  and  little  Fuad  sleeps  on  my  feet,  and  the 
revolver  reposes  quietly  on  the  chair.  It  would  be  a 
stout  Greek  indeed  to  brave  such  a  trio.  Poor  An 
tonio,  the  dumb  Armenian,  has  been  in  to  see  me,  and 
brought  me  a  pretty  chaplet  of  beads  for  Edith. 

Georgy  the  Sais  has  had  his  discharge  to-day  for 
bad  conduct,  and  was  greatly  enraged ;  so  I  am  more 
than  usually  bolted  up.  The  wind  is  howling  dread 
fully.  These  places  on  the  Bosphorus  are  more  like 
summer-houses  than  any  thing  else,  and  shake  with 


274  IN    AND   ABOUND    STAMBOUL. 

every  gust.  Heaven  help  the  poor  people  in  the 
Black  Sea  to-night!  This  morning  a  steamer  was 
towing  in  the  hull  of  an  unfortunate  vessel, — masts, 
ropes,  all  swept  away.  We  often  see  this  after  a 
stormy  night. 

The  bell  of  the  English  vessel  sounds  so  pleasantly ! 
I  often  wonder  who  they  are  on  board,  and  from  what 
part  of  England  they  come. 

A  great  many  ships  are  lying  just  here,  I  suppose 
for  safety.  Their  lights  look  very  pretty,  twinkling 
beyond  the  profound  darkness  of  the  valley.  Again, 
good-night !  Fuad  is  sitting  up,  begging  to  go  to 
bed.  He  begs  for  every  thing.  Love  to  all.  Dear 
Edith's  doll  will  soon  be  ready  charmingly  dressed, 
d  la  Sultana. 


LETTEK    XXXI. 

WINTKY   WEATHEK — NEWS  OP    THE   PEACE — THE    REJOICINGS — A   VISITOR 
FROM  THE  CRIMEA CRIMEAN  AMUSEMENTS LETTERS  FROM  HOME. 

Orta-kioy,  March  30th. 

My  dear  Sister : 

It  is  about  as  bad  a  day  as  it  is  possible  to 
imagine, — a  nortli  wind,  and  sleet  falling  fast  arid 
thick.  I  have  just  started  Edmund,  who  has  to  brave 
it  all,  although  not  at  all  strong  yet.  He  still  has  too 
much  responsible  and  perplexing  work  to  do,  and 
is  too  anxious  about  all.  He  is  now  sitting  on  a 
Commission  with  General  Mansfield  and  the  Turkish 
Minister  of  War  (Seraskier).  How  thankful  I  shall 
be  when  we  are  quiet  at  home  again ! 

In  the  midst  of  the  noise  of  the  wind  and  rain,  the 
rattling  of  our  numerous  windows,  and  all  the  dreary 
sounds  of  a  regular  winter's  day,  the  thunder  of 
cannon  sounded  from  the  different  ships  at  anchor 
this  morning.  At  first  we  thought  they  were  sa 
luting  the  Sultan  on  his  way  to  Scutari  to  review  the 
troops,  notwithstanding  the  badness  of  the  weather ; 
but  soon  after,  while  Henry  and  I  were  wondering, 
in  came  Antonio,  the  dumb  Armenian,  who  wrote  in 
Italian  to  me :  "  The  Emperor  of  Eussia  is  at  peace 
with  the  Emperor  of  Turkey."  Presently  the  village 
Watchmen  went  through  the  streets,  striking  their 
staves  on  the  ground  as  they  do  at  night,  and  chant 
ing  the  news  of  "  Peace."  I  was  sorry  not  to  under- 

(275) 


276  IN    AND   AROUND    STAMBOUL. 

stand  what  the  funny  old  fellows  said.  They  finished 
by  asking  for  a  few  piastres  from  each  house,  as  a 
subscription  toward  lighting  up  the  Greek  churches. 
In  the  evening  all  the  ships  were  illuminated,  as  well 
as  a  short  notice  would  admit,  and  lamps  were  hung 
out  at  the  gates  of  the  palaces  by  the  side  of  the 
Bosphorus.  Muskets  were  let  off  at  different  times 
all  the  evening,  and  every  now  and  then  a  few  rockets 
thrown  up.  We  could  plainly  see  the  rejoicing  lights 
of  Kulalee  on  the  Asian  side.  It  was  too  piercingly 
cold  to  venture  out.  The  Armenian  bishop,  our  op 
posite  neighbor,  hung  out  a  fine  large  lantern,  contain 
ing  three  or  four  candles.  I  possessed  only  one  pretty 
little  one,  which  I  had  bought  for  Edie,  and  was  not 
sufficiently  patriotic  to  hang  it  out.  I  asked  Vassili 
if  he  had  a  paper  one  in  the  kitchen,  but  he  grumbled 
out  something  about  their  being  "  too  dear  to  play  the 
fool  with ;"  so  our  establishment  was  not  distin 
guished  for  the  brilliancy  of  its  rejoicings.  I  heard 
that  Pera  was  very  prettily  illuminated  last  night. 
The  ministers  went  to  congratulate  the  Sultan  yes 
terday.  We  heard  the  Sultan's  band  playing  in  the 
evening.  I  suppose  his  Majesty  was  in  good  spirits. 

1st  of  April. 

We  were  surprised  at  breakfast- time  by  a  muddy 
traveler  dashing  in.  This  was  our  Therapian  friend, 
Richard  Coote,  of  the  46th.  You  will  remember  my 
telling  you  of  him,  and  his  dog  "  Boxer,"  who  was 
killed  by  trying  to  save  his  master  from  a  shell,  in 
the  trenches  before  Sebastopol.  We  used  to  have 
very  pleasant  walks  together  at  Therapia,  and  parted 
with  regret.  He  is  now  on  his  way  to  England,  in 


CRIMEAN   AMUSEMENTS.  277 

the  wildest  spirits,  and  as  strong  as  a  giant.  He  was 
as  glad  to  see  us,  and  as  rough  and  noisy,  as  a  young 
Newfoundland  dog.  We  could  hardly  understand 
him,  for  Crimean  slang  has  become  almost  a  language 
of  itself.  He  says  they  have  had  "  a  jolly  time  of  it, 
this  winter" — steeple-chases,  theatres,  and  all  sorts 
of  fun.  Pelting  the  Eussians  on  the  North  side,  he 
said,  was  no  end  of  a  glorious  morning's  amusement. 
The  English  officers  throw  snowballs,  made  as  hard  as 
possible,  with  a  shilling,  sixpence,  or  half-crown  in 
them.  In  return  comes  from  the  Russians  another,  of 
clay  or  snow,  containing  little  crosses,  old  Russian 
coins,  and  other  curiosities.  Coote  gave  me  a  little 
cross,  contained  in  a  ball  of  mud  which  nearly  broke 
his  head.  He  ran  on  with  all  sorts  of  nonsense  and 
fun,  and  made  me  laugh  immensely.  Such  a  savage- 
looking  being,  coated  in  mud,  I  never  beheld  before. 

He  dares  not  show  his  uniform  jacket,  having  done, 
as  he  said,  the  "  slow  trick"  of  saving  it,  until  it  was 
impossible  to  wear  it  with  the  truly  Crimean  trousers. 
He  had  had  fine  large  holes  in  his  boots  for  weeks, 
but  looked  the  picture  of  health  and  strength  and 
good-humor.  At  first,  he  said,  he  was  disappointed 
at  having  peace,  our  army  being  in  such  splendid 
trim ;  but  now,  he  added,  "  I  feel  thankful  and  jolly 
enough,  at  the  thoughts  of  seeing  my  dear  mother 
and  England  again ;  and  I  dare  say  a  good  many  do 
besides."  He  was  off  to  England  by  the  three  o'clock 
steamer,  so  I  could  get  nothing  ready  to  send  by  him. 

The  review  at  Scutari  is  put  off',  I  am  happy  to 
say,  until  finer  weather.  There  is  also  to  be  a  steeple 
chase,  at  which  the  Sultan  has  promised  to  attend. 
The  wind  is  so  cold  that  I  do  not  think  there  is  any 
24 


278  IN   AND   AROUND   STAMBOUL 

chance  of  going  to  Princes'  Islands  to-morrow.  Henry 
went  to  Pera  in  a  caique  yesterday,  taking  Vassili, 
and  returned  with  his  luggage,  which  was  fortunately 
found.  The  letters  and  newspapers  were  quite  a  prize. 
As  to  dear  Edie's  "  picture,"  we  went  into  fits  of 
laughing  about  it.  I  never  saw  any  daguerreotype 
bad  enough  to  match  it  before,  and  that  is  saying  a 
great  deal.  Tell  her  that  her  papa  was  delighted 
with  the  stone,  and  is  going  to  have  a  ring  put  into 
it  and  wear  it  on  his  chain.  The  little  basket  I  keep 
my  thimble  in,  and  the  two  little  dolls  I  shall  give  to 
a  pretty  little  Turkish  child  of  my  acquaintance  here, 
who  will  be  delighted  with  them.  The  myrtle-leaves 
I  keep  in  my  books :  thank  dear  little  Edie  for  them 
all ;  I  am  so  glad  she  does  not  forget  me.  The  mail 
is  not  yet  in,  being  again  two  days  behind  time;  a 
north  wind  keeps  them  back.  The  sun  is  bright  and 
the  days  are  fine,  but  the  wind  still  cold.  Edmund  is 
much  better  to-day,  and,  when  the  weather  is  warmer, 
will,  I  hope,  be  quite  well  again. 


LETTER    XXXII. 

EXCURSION  TO  PRINCES'  ISLANDS — SCENERY  OF  THE  BOSPHORUS — PRIN- 

KIPO VISIT    TO    A    CONVENT THE    ANCIENT     CHAPEL CURIOSITIES — • 

CARVING    AND     PICTURES BEAUTY    OF    THE    ISLAND RETURN    IN    THE 

DARK — A    NIGHT    ON    BOARD. 

Orta-kioy,  April  7th,  1856. 
My  dear  Mother : 

I  have  not  heard  from  you  since  my  cousin 
Henry's  arrival.  He  is,  I  think,  enjoying  himself  yery 
much,  and  charmed  with  the  novelty  and  beauty  of 
the  scenery  here.  On  Thursday  we  went  to  Princes' 
Islands,  although,  from  the  weather  having  been  so 
cold  and  stormy,  I  hoped  the  party  would  have  been 
put  off.  However,  contrary  to  all  expectation,  it 
turned  out  a  lovely  morning,  with  every  prospect  of 
its  lasting  so.  Accordingly,  at  ten  o'clock  we  walked 
down  to  the  pier,  and  there  was  the  "  City  of  Paris" 
gayly  dressed  with  flags  and  pennants,  come  up  from 
Constantinople  to  fetch  us.  I  wished  you  were  there, 
you  would  have  enjoyed  it  so. 

At  Tophana  we  lay-to,  the  harbor  being  too  crowded 
with  shipping  to  venture  very  close  in-shore.  The 
company  arrived  in  caiques.  It  was  very  amusing  to 
watch  with  our  glasses  who  was  coming.  At  last  all 
were  assembled,  and  off  we  started,  the  band  playing 
merrily.  The  sea  sparkled  in  the  brilliant  sunshine. 
Henry  was  perfectly  enchanted  with  Stamboul,  and 
its  cypresses  and  minarets  rising  abruptly  out  of  the 
water. 

(279) 


280-  IN   AND   AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

Steaming  down  toward  the  islands,  we  had  a 
glorious  view  of  the  Golden  Horn  and  Scutari.  The 
largest  vessel  in  the  world,  an  American,  was  dozing 
quietly  in  the  sun  in  the  Sea  of  Marmora,  all  her  sails 
set.  It  was  the  most  wonderful  sight.  We  agreed 
that  the  extraordinary  beauty  of  the  scene  is  even 
distressing.  In  the  first  place  you  never  can,  by  any 
possibilty,  believe  it  to  be  real,  that  you  are  not 
dreaming ;  and  secondly,  you  are  half- miserable  be 
cause  every  body  you  like  is  not  with  you.  When 
we  came  within  sight  of  the  mountains,  leaving  be 
hind  us  the  Golden  Horn,  with  its  great  Koman  wall 
and  turrets  still  guarding  the  shore,  I  assure  you  it 
was  quite  overpowering.  The  sea  heaved,  and  glit 
tered  like  silver,  beneath  mountains,  in  some  places 
higher  than  the  clouds,  dazzling  with  snow  and  ice 
on  their  summits,  and  clothed  with  dark  fir-trees  and 
heather  below,  just  like  St.  George's  Hills.  Halfway 
up  one  of  the  highest  peaks,  stand  boldly  out  the 
ruins  of  a  monastery.  On  the  principal  island,  cot 
tages,  vineyards,  and  olive-gardens  peep  out  here  and 
there ;  but  several  of  them  are  mere  masses  of  rock, 
uninhabited,  except  by  sea-birds,  and  looking  savage 
and  desolate  enough.  Our  vessel  stopped  at  the 
rough  quay  of  the  principal  island,  called,  I  believe, 
Prinkipo. 

A  crowd  of  wild-looking  Turks  and  Greeks,  seeing 
our  flags  and  pennants,  came  rushing  down,  and  with 
them  about  a  hundred  Eussian  prisoners,  in  their 
long  gray  coats  and  fur  caps.  They  looked  very  well, 
and  happy.  We  disembarked  in  this  crowd,  and  all 
the  windows  of  the  little  wooden  houses  on  shore  were 
full  of  curious  and  laughing  faces.  Some  of  the  chil- 


VISIT   TO   A   CONVENT.  281 

dren  followed  us  half-way  up  the  mountain.  The  val 
ley  of  the  island  is  beautifully  cultivated,  principally 
with  vines,  olives,  and  pomegranates.  A  lovely  walk 
we  had,  although  a  very  tiring  one.  After  following 
a  winding  path  sheltered  with  large  fir-trees,  for  some 
time,  and  beginning  to  feel  dreadfully  tired,  to  the 
delight  of  the  whole  of  the  party  we  came  to  a  con 
vent,  the  gates  of  which  were  wide  open.  We  entered 
the  court-yard,  which  was  in  a  most  ruinous  state,  and 
quite  deserted,  except  by  a  solitary  white  hen,  who 
walked  up  to  us  in  a  very  confident  manner,  looking 
sleek  and  well  fed.  All  round  the  court-yard  was  a 
kind  of  open  gallery  with  benches,  and  beyond  that 
the  doors  of  the  monks'  apartments,  in  which  the 
giddy  young  ladies  of  our  party  were  running  about 
without  ceremony.  Presently  a  middle-aged  Greek 
appeared,  and  looked  surprised  at  seeing  so  large  a 
party  within  those  desolate  and  dilapidated  old  walls. 
Mr.  Leigh  speaks  Greek ;  so  we  asked  leave  to  rest, 
which  was  most  kindly  granted.  The  Greek  told  us 
that  there  was  but  one  monk  left;  the  brotherhood 
had  fallen  sadly  into  decay.  He  was  old,  he  said,  and 
did  not  like  to  be  disturbed  by  strangers ;  he  was  now 
working  in  his  garden,  but  we  might  see  the  chapel 
if  we  pleased.  How  delighted  Julia  would  have  been 
with  the  old  chapel,  built  in  the  early  days  of  Chris 
tianity,  with  its  curious  pictures  of  saints,  crucifixes, 
and  moldering  priests'  vestments,  evidently  once  of 
extraordinary  richness. 

Here,  in  the  East,  things  often  are  found  just  as 

they  were  a  thousand  years  ago,  and  it  was  with  great 

feelings  of  awe  that  we  touched  the  old  volumes  in 

the  quaintly-carved  stalls  where  the  priest  reads.     I 

24* 


282  IN   AND   AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

put  aside  dark  and  heavy  hangings,  and  crept  through 
a  little  door  into  the  holy  recess,  as  it  were,  of  the 
chapel.  Here  hung  the  antique  silver  censers,  cu 
riously  carved  crucifixes,  and  strange  pictures  of 
saints  and  martyrs,  with  silver  hands  and  "  glories." 
Rich  priests'  vestments  lay  in  the  deep  recess  of  the 
window,  but  old  and  moth-eaten,  telling  a  sad  tale  of 
the  decay  of  the  Christian  church  and  brotherhood. 
The  light  was  too  dim  to  see  much  at  a  glance,  and 
the  old  Greek  soon  came  in  to  tell  me,  by  a  grave 
sign,  that  I  was  on  forbidden  ground,  which  I  did 
not  know ;  but  it  was  to  me  the  greatest  charm  to 
touch  lightly  those  ancient  things.  I  believe  an  anti 
quary  would  have  gone  wild ;  and  I  must  say  that  a 
charming  picture  of  a  saint  reading,  and  a  crucifix 
evidently  of  extraordinary  antiquity,  haunt  me  still. 
The  old  Greek  gave  me  a  curious  little  cross,  and 
allowed  me  to  take,  from  a  ruined  part  of  the  chapel 
appropriated  to  women,  a  small  globe  of  china,  which 
once  hung  on  one  of  the  ancient  lamps,  now  lying 
broken  on  the  pavement.  It  is  very  curious,  and 
marked  with  the  cross  of  the  Greek  Church.  I  am 
taking  care  of  it  for  Mrs.  Austin. 

We  propose  going  to  the  islands  for  a  month.  I 
then  hope  to  find  a  few  more  of  these  curious  things. 
One  lamp,  with  all  its  quaint  ornaments,  was  laying 
moldering  on  the  ground  in  a  corner,  and  several 
smaller  votive  ones  hanging  neglected,  and  covered 
with  dust,  in  the  ruined  part  of  the  chapel  I  men 
tioned.  Some  of  them  were  alabaster,  with  silver 
chains;  some  curiously  worked  in  brass.  If  we  go  to 
the  islands  in  May,  oh  that  the  monk  may  take  a 
new  crucifix  for  an  old,  and  "  new  lamps  for  old," 


VISIT   TO   A   CONVENT.  283 

after  the  manner  of  the  African  magician !  I  went 
into  several  of  the  deserted  cells.  Each  brother 
seemed  to  have  had  a  small  room  to  himself,  with 
part  of  the  floor  raised  at  one  end  of  it  for  a  divan. 
Such  an  enchanting  view  from  the  little  casement,  of 
mountains,  fir-trees,  arbutus,  gray  rocks,  and  vine 
yards,  with  the  sea  glittering  on  each  side !  The  fish 
ing-rods  and  water-jars  of  the  monks  still  remained 
outside  several  of  the  doors.  By  one  of  them  still 
hung  a  walking-staff  and  large  lantern,  which  had 
once  been  a  very  handsome  one.  The  doors  of  the 
little  carved  oak  cupboards  were  open,  and  a  few 
primitive  earthenware  vessels  still  stood  within,  just 
as  the  poor  old  men  may  have  left  them  years  and 
years  ago.  Rude  carvings  of  saints'  heads,  and  a 
few  broken  Greek  characters  were  notched  on  the  old 
bench  of  the  open  gallery  where  I  sat.  The  scene 
had  an  extraordinary  effect  on  one's  mind.  In  these 
vast  solitudes  things  seem  to  stand  still.  How  dif 
ferent  to  the  whirl  and  constant  change  of  civilized 
life !  But  I  shall  write  you  more  of  these  lovely 
islands  and  their  various  monasteries  when  we  are 
there  in  May. 

M.  Musurus  is  going  to  ask  the  Greek  Patriarch 
to  allow  us  to  lodge  in  another  convent  higher  up 
the  mountain,  which  is  in  better  repair,  and  was  once 
the  prison  of  Irene,  Empress  of  the  East.  In  the 
summer  many  rich  Greeks  go  there  for  the  benefit 
of  the  air ;  so,  in  these  modern  days,  there  is  a  steamer 
to  the  principal  island  night  and  morning.  We  are 
going  to  have  a  tent  put  up  on  the  sands,  for  sea 
bathing,  and  look  forward  with  great  pleasure  to  the 
ohange  when  the  hot  weather  sets  in.  How  yon 


284  IN    AND   AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

would  enjoy  it,  and  dear  Edie !  There  would  be  no 
fear  for  her  health  here;  they  say  it  is  the  finest 
climate  in  the  world.  The  largest  island  has  about  a 
thousand  inhabitants. 

How  delightful  to  have  a  farm  at  Princes'  Islands, 
and  rooms  at  Pera  for  the  three  winter  months, 
should'Ve  be  obliged  to  remain  here  !  We  could  buy 
half  the  island,  with  garden  and  vineyard,  for  £500, 
and  build  a  good  comfortable  house,  with  a  fire-place, 
and  every  comfort.  You  would  "go  distracted"  if 
you  were  to  see  it.  Fancy  St.  George's  heathery 
hills  rising  out  of  the  sea,  with  shining  snowy  moun 
tains  all  around,  Asia  in  the  distance,  and  vineyards 
and  olive-gardens  and  ruined  monasteries  in  the 
centre.  We  left  just  before  sunset ;  the  mountains 
were  violet-color,  and  the  sea  the  darkest  blue.  I 
felt  very  happy,  because,  in  case  of  our  ever  living 
here,  it  seemed  as  if  there  was  a  beautiful  and  healthy 
home  for  Edith.  We  had  a  delightful  passage  home 
ward,  but  some  officers  of  the  party  persuaded  the 
captain  to  go  into  the  Sea  of  Marmora  ;  this  made  us 
late,  and,  as  it  was  dark  when  we  arrived  at  Constan 
tinople,  they  could  not  take  us  up  the  Bosphorus  to 
Orta-kioy. 

Few  caiques  came  up  to  us,  and  those  were  only 
single-oared  ones.  What  was  to  be  done  ?  Only  two 
small  caiques  for  all.  So  it  was  arranged  at  last  that, 
to  avoid  the  night  air,  I  was  to  accept  Mr.  Leigh's 
offer  of  sleeping  on  board  his  yatch,  the  "  Vesta." 

The  "  Vesta"  was  lying  off  Stamboul.  Her  master 
went  on  board  first,  just  to  say,  "Ladies  coming,"  to 
his  men,  and  Madame  de  Souci  and  I  sat  quietly  on 
deck,  watching  the  marvelous  effect  of  the  illuminated 


A   NIGHT   ON   THE   VESTA.  285 

minarets  of  Santa  Sophia,  Sultan  Achmetie,  and  other 
mosques,  on  the  water,  and  among  the  clustering  cy 
presses.  It  was  just  like  a  fairy  dream,  if  even  fairies 
can  dream  any  thing  so  beautiful  and  unique.  I 
thought  at  first  that  it  was  in  honor  of  "  Peace,"  but 
Admiral  Slade  told  me  that  it  was  a  great  Mohammedan 
feast-day,  the  anniversary  of  Mahomet's  entrance  into 
Heaven  on  a  white  camel ! 

At  last  all  our  large  party  got  off,  crying  out  many 
a  "  good-night"  as  they  stepped  down  the  ship's  side 
to  the  dancing  caiques  below.  This  is  extremely 
dangerous,  as  you  may  suppose,  unless  you  are  care 
ful,  and  especially  in  the  dark,  with  innumerable 
lights  all  round,  which  dazzle  and  confuse. 

We  soon  reached  the  "  Vesta,"  lying  off  a  forest  of 
masts.  It  was  wonderful  to  me  how  the  boatmen 
could  find  her  out,  the  darkness  was  so  profound,  and 
the  lights  of  the  minarets,  arid  the  illuminated  masts 
of  some  of  the  Turkish  men-of-war,  so  bewildering, 
glittering  high  in  the  air.  Every  now  and  then  a 
rocket  whizzed  up,  and  burst  over  our  heads.  I  was 
not  sorry  to  find  ourselves  safe  in  the  charming  little 
cabin  of  the  "  Vesta."  The  old  steward  was  bustling 
about,  and  had  already  prepared  a  real  English  tea,  as 
he  called  it,  which  was  welcome  indeed.  A  bright 
fire  burned  in  a  tiny  English  grate,  and,  like  a  cat,  I 
settled  on  the  hearth  at  once,  and  could  have  purred 
with  pleasure.  The  u  Yesta"  is  a  charming  little  ves 
sel.  She  was  once  a  Trinity-House  yacht,  the  one  in 
which  the  Queen  went  to  Scotland.  She  now  belongs 
to  Mr.  Leigh,  who  has  invited  us  to  go  to  Salonica  in 
her.  We  shall  touch  at  Candia  and  other  beautiful 
islands :  it  will  be  a  rare  treat. 


286         IN  AND  ABOUND  STAMBOUL. 

After  thoroughly  enjoying  tea  and  ham,  and  a  chat 
with  our  kind  host,  Miss  Barker  and  I  retired  to  our 
comfortable  little  cabin.  We  were  amused  to  hear 
Mr.  Leigh  consulting  with  the  old  steward  about 
going  on  shore  in  the  morning,  and  what  was  to  be 
got  for  breakfast,  etc.  The  night  was  calm  as  possi 
ble.  Only  the  watch  walking  up  and  down,  and  the 
sound  of  the  different  ships'  bells,  told  that  we  were 
on  board  ship.  I  thought,  as  I  was  falling  asleep, 
that  you  little  imagined  I  was  out  at  sea,  lying  off  the 
Golden  Horn  in  a  strange  ship.  At  eight  o'clock  the 
good  old  steward  tapped  with  hot  water,  but  I  was 
already  up  and  dressed.  We  had  a  breakfast  of  deli 
cious  red-mullet,  raimak  (a  kind  of  cream),  honey  from 
Mount  Hymettus,  and  all  the  good  things  which  Con 
stantinople  could  furnish. 

We  went  on  shore  at  ten,  and  had  another  long 
ramble  in  the  cemetery,  where  there  is  a  magnificent 
view  of  the  arches  of  the  Eoman  aqueduct.  But  I 
must  say  good-night,  being  very  tired, 


LETTEE    XXXIII. 

SHORES    OF    THE  BOSPHORUS — TOMB   OF    BARBAROSSA ANTIQUITIES 

DRESS — "APPLE-BLOSSOM" — SYMPATHY   IN   MISFORTUNE — SCHOOLING 
GREEK  NAMES. 

Orta-kioy,  April  12tli,  1856. 
My  dear  Sister : 

Yesterday's  mail  brought  me  your  long  letter, 
and  the  little  packet  of  violets  from  Edith.  There 
was  just  one  breath  of  sweetness  left,  and  they  were 
very  welcome.  How  pleasant  England  must  be  now ! 
I  often  think  of  its  hedgerows,  and  green  lanes,  and 
cottage  gardens,  after  the  fresh  shower — things  un 
known  here.  However,  we  have  lovely  weather, 
although  rather  too  warm.  The  Asian  hills  opposite 
are  just  tinted  with  the  delicate  green  of  spring ;  there 
is  a  breeze  from  the  south,  and  "  white  horses,"  which 
I  love  to  watch,  are  rushing  in  from  the  Sea  of  Mar 
mora.  I  was  in  a  caique  yesterday,  crossing  from 
Scutari ;  vast  numbers  of  ships,  many  of  which  were 
homeward  bound,  and  crowded  with  troops  from  the 
Crimea,  stood  out,  a  fine  foreground  to  the  distant 
mountains.  It  was  a  beautiful  sight.  The  lower 
range  of  mountains  was  clothed  in  delicate  green  and 
the  richest  tints  of  brown;  the  higher  looked  like 
white  clouds,  but  shining  with  snow  and  ice,  which 
will  soon  disappear,  except  from  the  loftiest  peaks. 
Even  now  a  gigantic  hillock  of  green  bursts  out  every 
here  and  there,  like  a  huge  daisy-bud  amidst  the  sur 
rounding  snow.  It  is  very  tantalizing  to  be  in  this 

(-287) 


288  IN   AND  AROUND  STAMBOUL. 

part  of  the  world,  and  not  have  plenty  of  both  time 
and  money.  There  are  so  many  places  of  the  greatest 
interest  to  visit,  that  I  always  look  wistfully  on  the 
mountains,  and  lay  down  my  map  with  a  sigh.  As  it 
is,  I  am  obliged  to  content  myself  with  seeing  as  much 
of  Stamboul  as  possible,  and  making  little  excursions 
to  the  different  villages,  and  to  the  charming  nooks 
and  valleys  on  the  Bosphorus.  The  other  day  I  stum 
bled  over  the  stones  of  Beshiktash  for  two  or  three 
hours,  wishing  much  to  see  the  burial-place  of  the 
ancient  Moslem  admiral,  Barbarossa.  I  was  told  that 
it  was  easy  to  discover  the  old  ivy-covered  tomb,  not 
far  from  the  wayside ;  but  I  did  not  find  it  so,  and 
return,  with  nothing  for  my  morning's  walk  but  a  few 
pretty  pieces  of  common  pottery,  which  I  found  in  a 
quaint  old  shop  of  the  village.  Vassili  bargained 
for  me,  with  a  grim  surprise  at  my  caring  for  such 
barbarous  things.  However,  I  am  bound  to  say  that 
he  shows  great  interest  in  my  wanderings,  and  does 
all  he  can  to  help  me  in  every  way ;  even  to  the  col 
lecting  of  old  coins  and  crosses,  and  inquiring  after 
curious  ancient  pavements,  one  of  which  he  tells  me 
is  to  be  seen,  of  great  beauty  and  in  a  perfect  state 
of  preservation,  in  a  monastery  at  Halki.  We  think 
of  taking  a  small  house  at  the  Islands  when  the  warm 
weather  sets  in  fully  :  I  shall  then  be  able  to  explore, 
which  I  always  do  with  a  feeling  of  regret  that  you 
are  not  with  me,  and  thinking  of  the  old  places  which 
we  have  visited  together  in  days  gone  by. 

My  life  here  is  certainly  a  strange  one  for  a  woman. 
My  camplike  house  gives  me  but  little  concern, 
beyond  seeing  that  it  is  scrubbed  clean ;  I  can  go  out 
in  a  morning,  after  having  exercised  my  dogs  in  the 


DEESS— APPLE-BLOSSOM.  289 

garden  and  fed  my  birds,  without  much,  caring  whether 
it  is  burnt  down  or  not.  My  ornamental  wardrobe  is 
at  the  lowest  possible  ebb — my  laces  nibbled  by  mid 
night  mice,  my  collars  tattered  and  torn  by  the  digni 
fied  kindness  of  the  Greek  lady.  So  I  should  not  think 
it  worth  while  even  to  shut  the  door  of  my  room ;  for 
the  few  things  that  I  have  of  value  I  left  in  England. 
Every  article  of  dress  is  frightfully  dear  here,  espe 
cially  since  the  war ;  and  I  carefully  hoard  my  money 
for  potteries,  which  cost  a  few  piastres,  old  coins, 
incense,  embroideries,  and  the  many  pretty  trifles  of 
the  bazaar  at  Stamboul.  So  expect  to  see  me  return 
with  a  seeming  predilection  for  savage  costume ;  but 
don't  abuse  my  appearance  until  you  behold  the  amber 
beads  I  have  bought  for  you,  and  the  scarf  worked  in 
myrtle -leaves  and  gold  by  an  ancient  Greek  dame  of 
Therapia.  By-the-by,  I  am  trying  to  learn  the  em 
broidery.  We  have  a  Greek  woman  now  who  knows 
a  little  about  it,  and  seems  willing  to  teach  me  :  her 
name  is  Media,  which,  by  Yassili's  learned  translation, 
appears  to  signify  "  Apple-blossom,"  in  the  vulgar 
tongue.  I  always  call  her  tl  Apple-blossom,"  it  so 
takes  my  fancy.  She  is  a  worthy  body,  but  sour- 
looking,  and  slow  in  all  her  movements.  At  first  we 
thought  that  she  was  unhappily  of  the  crab-apple 
species,  but  it  seems,  poor  thing,  that  she  has  only 
been  blighted ;  for  the  love  of  her  husband,  a  Greek, 
much  younger  and  better-looking  than  herself,  dis 
appeared  unaccountably  with  her  poor  stock  of  pias 
tres,  and  he  vanished  as  unaccountably  himself  some 
time  after — no  uncommon  thing  here,  I  am  told,  as  in 
other  parts  of  the  round  world.  So,  the  "  Apple- 
blossom"  and  Yassili  are  two  misanthropes  together : 
25 


290  IN   AND   ABOUND   STAMBOUL. 

the  faithless  husband  and  the  robbery  in  Egypt  are 
great  bonds  of  union,  and  they  work  on  in  silent 
sympathetic  gloom.  Yanni,  the  Sais,  is  a  great  con 
trast,  always  smiling  and  gay,  in  the  smartest  jacket 
and  sash.  They  are  all  three  very  good  in  their  way, 
and  certainly  most  attentive  and  devoted  to  us.  Apple- 
blossom's  "  only  joy"  is  a  spoiled,  perverse,  and  ugly 
boy  of  five,  whom  we  allowed  her  to  have  with  her 
as  a  solace  to  her  woes.  He  killed  butterflies,  spoiled 
flowers,  stopped  up  the  fountain,  let  out  my  birds, 
half-strangled  little  Fuad,  and  committed  so  many 
enormities,  that  he  became  the  plague  of  mv  life.  At 
last  he  was  caught  dipping  his  fingers  into  some 
kaimak,  and  that  sealed  his  fate.  He  is  now  con 
signed  by  day  to  the  tender  mercies  of  the  Greek 
schoolmaster  of  the  village,  who  undertakes  to  reform 
his  morals  and  instruct  him  in  the  mysteries  of  his 
primer,  for  the  sum  of  thirty  piastres,  or  four-and- 
fourpence  a  month ;  this  certainly  cannot  be  consid 
ered  an  extravagant  charge,  considering  that  the 
Apple-blossom  says  it  is  a  "  select"  school.  But  Ap 
ple-blossom,  through  the  favor  of  her  patron  saint, 
Demetrius,  whom  she  ever  gloomily  invokes  in  all 
her  domestic  troubles,  is  ambitious  for  her  "  piccolo," 
who  certainly  already  shows  slight  symptoms  of  im 
provement.  He  formerly  entertained  a  very  whole 
some  but  deadly  fear  of  me,  the  "  Cocona ;"  but  we 
are  now  becoming  good  friends,  especially  since  I  sat 
on  the  garden-steps  with  him  one  morning,  and  begged 
to  be  taught  a  few  letters  of  the  poor  torn  Greek 
primer,  dogs'-eared  and  blistered  with  many  a  tear ; 
for  Johannichino  is  given  to  crying  under  difficulties, 
and  does  not  take  kindly  to  literature  and  to  its 


GREEK   NAMES.  291 

representative,  the  dirty- visaged,  dark-bearded  Greek 
dominie.  He  sometimes  consoles  himself  by  bringing 
his  school-fellows  as  far  as  the  garden  door.  How  one 
is  startled  at  hearing  the  old  Greek  names  applied  to 
such  dirty  little  urchins,  squabbling  against  dusty 
walls  for  marbles,  or  screaming  for  piastres  at  stran 
gers  passing  by  !  —  "  Epaminondas,"  "  Aristides," 
11  Aspasia,"  "  Sappho  !"  "  Aristides"  is  perhaps,  to 
your  great  horror,  tormenting  and  killing  flies,  or 
slinging  stones  vigorously  across  the  narrow  streets  at 
children  smaller  than  himself,  or  appropriating  the 
whole  of  a  seedy  melon ;  "  Sappho,"  sitting  in  a  ravine 
before  the  wretched  tumble-down  wooden  cottages, 
filthily  dirty,  busily  engaged  in  the  uiipoetical  manu 
facture  of  a  "  dirt-pie,"  and  utterly  regardless  of  the 
shrill  screams  of  her  slipshod  mother.  Perhaps 
Sapphos,  in  these  degenerate  days  of  modern  Greece, 
make  dirt-pies  even  at  Lesbos !  This  was  a  melan 
choly  thought  the  other  day,  when  standing  at  my 
garden-door,  and  hearing  those  names  called  in  the 
noisy  children's  gambols. 

But  it  is  getting  late.  Yassili  is  opening  the  gar 
den-door  for  Johannichino,  who,  returning  from  school 
with  satchel  slung  across  his  shoulder,  looks  quite  a 
Greek  edition  of  Shakspear's  Second  Age  of  Man. 
There  is  usually  a  cord  attached  to  our  rude  latch, 
like  that  to  Ked  Eiding-Hood's  grandmother's,  and 
Yassili  is  grumbling  at  having  to  go  further  than  the 
door  of  his  den  to  answer  the  tinkle  of  the  rusty  bell. 
Johannichino  slips  quickly  by  to  his  mother,  in  evi 
dent  fear  of  being  devoured  at  least  by  his  amiable 
colleague. 

It  is  now  nearly  twilight,  and  I  will  conclude  my 


292  IN   AND   AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

gossip  with  you,  my  dear  sister,  and  practice  "  Ade 
laide  "  on  the  old  piano-forte  till  dinner-time.  A  string 
of  camels  has  just  passed  by,  laden  with  baskets  of 
charcoal :  the  tinkle  of  their  bells  sounds  pleasantly  in 
the  distance,  as  they  wind  round  the  steep  roads  lead 
ing  to  the  village.  I  have  been  so  many  hours  alone, 
that  I  could  write  the  history  of  the  day  by  its  sounds, 
Christian  and  Mohammedan.  What  should  I  do  with 
out  my  letters  to  you  all,  by  the  way  of  employment  ? 
I  might  take  to  sighing  and  dozing  by  the  wayside, 
like  old  Fortunata,  a  Greek  woman  here ;  or  create 
myself  a  female  dervish,  and  practice  necromancy  and 
the  black  art. 


LETTER     XXXIY. 

TEA-PARTY — VISIT   OF   A   TURKISH    GENTLEMAN — MORALS   IN   TURKEY- 
PASHAS —  THE  SULTAN — FASHION  OF  LEARNING  MUSIC TROUBLES  OF  A 

MUSIC-MASTER   IN   THE   HAREM — FLOWERS — JASMINE-STICKS — PIPES — 
A  VILLAGE  BURNT. 

Constantinople,  April  15th,  1856. 
My  dear  Mother : 

We  had  an  amusing  tea-party  last  evening. 
Antonio,  the  Armenian,  came  in,  and  wrote  in  Italian 
that,  if  perfectly  agreeable,  his  mother  and  eldest 
brother  desired  to  pay  us  a  visit ;  and  at  the  same 
time  begged  permission  to  introduce  a  Turkish  gen 
tleman,  a  friend  of  theirs,  who  was  anxious  to  make 
our  acquaintance.  We  were  of  course  happy  to  see 
them;  and  Johannichino  was  instantly  dispatched 
with  a  note  to  my  kind  friend  Miss  Clara  Barker,  to 
enable  us  to  have  the  pleasure  of  also  understanding 
them. 

The  good  old  Armenian  lady  presented  the  Turk 
with  her  usual  dignity  and  grace.  He  lives  in  a 
large  yellow  house  on  the  Bosphorus,  in  the  harem 
part  of  which  he  has  one  wife,  and  his  brother  two. 
So  Dhudu  whispered  to  me  on  the  divan ;  for  although 
of  the  new  school,  and  affecting  European  manners,  he 
seemed  shy  of  ladies,  and  soon  crept  off  to  the  stove 
and  the  gentlemen. 

I  was  going  to  clap  my  hands  for  coffee ;  but  they 
said  that  he  was  ambitious  of  making  himself  ac 
quainted  with  English  customs,  and  had  expressed  a 

(293) 


29-i  IN   AND   AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

hope,  before  coming  in,  that  he  should  see  an  English 
lady  make  tea.  So  I  gave  him  that  pleasure,  al 
though  I  must  say  that  the  taste,  at  least,  seemed 
to  afford  him  any  thing  but  satisfaction.  He  was 
asked  to  take  another  cup,  and  declined  with  great 
earnestness.  He  seemed  so  wretched  without  his 
chibouque,  that  we  agreed  to  offer  him  one,  even 
in  my  little  sanctum.  With  very  little  persuasion, 
Dhudu  skillfully  made  cigarettes  for  her  mother  and 
self,  and  bowing,  they  each  took  to  them  kindly. 
The  conversation  now  became  animated,  for  the  Ef- 
fendi's  shyness  soon  wore  off  under  the  friendly  shel 
ter  of  his  clouds  of  smoke. 

From  questions  about  England,  our  army,  and 
government,  he  was  soon  led  to  speak  of  Turkey 
and  its  affairs.  He  told  us,  very  bitterly,  many 
things  relating  to  the  disgraceful  immorality  of  the 
Turkish  ministers,  sunk  in  indolence  and  vice ;  how 
devoid  they  almost  all  are  of  the  slightest  feeling  for 
their  unhappy  and  despised  country,  the  slightest 
sympathy  for  its  impoverished,  ruined  state;  how 
they  only  seek  their  own  interest  and  and  aggrandize 
ment  ;  in  fact,  all  that  doubtless  you  have  heard  many 
times  before,  although  not  from  the  lips  of  one  of 
their  own  people.  There  was  a  certain  eloquence 
about  him,  or,  it  might  be,  that  there  is  something  so 
startling  and  tragical  in  the  description  of  a  kingdom 
and  people  falling  to  ruin  by  rapid  strides,  so  rousing 
in  stories  of  barbaric  cruelty  and  oppression  in  these 
days,  that  we  all  listened  with  the  greatest  attention 
to  accounts  of  poor  olive-growers  and  unfortunate  far 
mers  of  the  provinces,  taxed,  robbed,  and  ruined  by 
pashas  reveling  in  palaces  on  the  Bosphorus,  "  at  this 


MORALS   IN   TUEKEY.  295 

moment,  perhaps,  drunken  with  wine,  (as  many  of 
them  I  could  name  constantly  are  after  sunset),  and 
shut  up  in  their  luxurious  apartments." 

He  went  on  to  talk  of  the  Sultan — "  sovereign  only 
in  name — wishing  to  do  much — able,  from  the  preju 
dices,  quarrels,  and  corruptness  of  his  ministers,  to  do 
so  little.  When,  by  a  fortunate  chance,  he  succeeds 
with  these,  some  foreign  power  steps  in  and  with  mor 
tifying  interference  puts  the  whole  thing  aside.  He 
is  deeply  in  debt,  even  for  the  clothes  and  jewels  of 
his  wives,  in  their  morning  shoppings  at  the  bazaars ; 
still  more  deeply  for  his  favorite  fancy  of  palace- 
building;  his  health  is  wretched,  thanks  to  the 
wicked  and  unnatural  conduct  of  his  mother,  who 
led  him  into  every  excess  when  a  mere  boy,  in  order 
to  gain  more  power  of  intrigue  herself  during  his 
minority.  Sometimes  there  is  quite  a  scene  at  the 
palace  with  the  Minister  of  Finance,  about  the  fright 
ful  amount  of  royal  debt  and  difficulties;  and  then 
it  is  reported  that  the  poor  weak  Sultan,  in  his  anger 
and  mortification,  drinks  deep  and  desperate  draughts 
of  champagne  and  brandy."  It  is  a  sad  story  of  so 
good  and  kind  a  heart !  One  cannot  but  feel  what 
he  might  have  been,  and  how  much  he  has  had  to 
battle  against  with  his  ministers,  and,  worse  than  all, 
with  himself,  to  do  even  what  he  has  done  for  Turkey. 
Although  I  listened,  I  did  not  at  all  like  our  guest's 
talk,  feeling  shame  for  him,  that  he  could  so  speak 
of  these  things,  even  though  true — so  publish  to 
strangers  the  disgrace  of  his  own  sovereign,  and 
country,  and  religion.  I  am  afraid  there  can  be  little 
good  in  him.  He  regretted  very  much  not  being  able 
to  speak  English.  "We  taught  him  to  say,  "  God  save 


296  IN    AND   AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

the  Queen,"  which  seemed  to  afford  him  vast  satisfac 
tion.  He  took  up  and  buckled  on  an  English  sword, 
and  said  what  would  he  not  give  to  be  an  English 
man,  and  to  wear  it  in  her  majesty's  service !  He 
took  his  fez  off  his  head,  and  throwing  it  on  the 
ground,  shook  his  fist  at  it.  It  was  very  painful, 
even  if  he  was  sincere ;  and  I  was  glad  when  he  was 
gone,  and  the  ladies  remained  for  a  quiet  chat.  How 
ever,  I  have  promised  to  pay  a  visit  to  his  wife  very 
soon,  in  the  latticed  house  below.  He  said :  "  She  still 
wears  that  rag,  that  symbol  of  slavery,  the  yashmak, 
which  I  long  to  see  torn  from  the  faces  of  our 
women." 

So  much  for  the  conversation  of  our  modern  Turk, 
which  I  did  not  at  all  like  or  credit.  He  had  a 
sharp,  insincere  face,  and  a  restless  manner  so  dif 
ferent  from  the  few  I  have  seen  of  the  fine,  dig 
nified  Turkish  gentlemen  of  the  old  school  of  East 
ern  manners.  I  had  an  amusing  chat  with  Dhudu 
when  he  was  gone — interpreted,  as  usual,  by  my  kind 
and  constant  friend,  so  untiring  in  translating  that 
which  I  fear  was  not  very  interesting  to  herself. 
You  will  remember  that  I  told  you  how  poor  the 
Almiras  have  become  since  the  death  of  their  father. 
Dhudu  spoke  very  sadly  of  him,  and  of  his  tenderness 
to  them  all,  and  showed  us  a  beautiful  ring  he  had 
given  her ;  for,  after  the  fashion  of  the  country,  they 
still  possess  some  fine  diamonds,  although  almost 
threadbare  in  their  dress,  and  existing  on  air,  accord 
ing  to  our  notions  of  living.  Talking  still  quietly 
of  their  fallen  fortunes,  as  we  listened  with  interest, 
poor  Dhudu  went  on  to  relate  a  new  trouble.  It 
seems  that  her  younger  brother,  who  is  remarkably 


TROUBLES    OF   A    MUSIC-MASTER.  297 

good-looking,  and  showed  a  great  talent  for  music, 
was  sent  to  Vienna  in  their  prosperous  days  for  his 
education.  His  piano-forte  playing  is  thought  much 
of  here  ;  and  being  so  poor,  and  the  Sultan  having  set 
the  fashion  of  Turkish  ladies  learning  music,  he  now 
gives  lessons  to  the  wives  and  daughters  of  several 
pashas  on  the  Bosphorus.  He  is  married,  greatly 
attached  to  his  wife,  and  has  two  pretty  children; 
added  to  this,  he  is  a  grave,  shy  young  man.  Well, 
Dhudu's  trouble  for  her  brother  is  this.  He  goes 
quietly  in  the  morning  to  give  his  lessons.  Perhaps 
there  are  two  or  three  vailed  ladies  in  the  room  into 
which  he  is  ushered  by  the  attendants.  Sometimes 
the  pasha  himself  is  there,  but  very  seldom :  there 
are  always  two  or  three  black  attendants.  "The 
lesson  begins,"  says  Dhudu,  in  a  melancholy  voice, 
"  and  they  are  generally  rather  stupid.  The  men 
who  guard  them  soon  grow  tired  of  looking  on,  and 
stroll  away  to  their  pipes.  They  are  hardly  outside 
the  door,  when  down  goes  the  yashmak  of  one  of 
the  ladies.  She  is  very  pretty,  but  very  tiresome : 
my  brother  is  afraid  to  look  at  her.  What  should 
he  do  if  the  pasha  were  suddenly  to  return,  or  one 
of  the  slaves  to  enter  and  report  this  to  him  ?  So  he 
turns  his  head  away,  and  tries  to  induce  her  to  go  on 
with  her  lesson.  Would  you  believe  it,"  says  Dhudu, 
still  more  indignantly,  "the'  other  day  she  took  hold 
of  his  chin,  and  turned  his  face  to  hers,  and  said, 
laughing :  l  Why  don't  you  look  at  me,  you  pig  ?' 
What  can  my  brother  do  ?  The  pasha  would  never 
believe  that  it  is  not  his  fault.  Sometimes  one  of 
them  will  creep  under  the  piano-forte,  and  putting 
her  finger  into  his  shoe,  tickle  his  foot.  Yesterday 


298  IN   AND   ABOUND   STAMBOUL. 

they  slipped  two  peaches  into  his  pocket,  tied  up  in 
muslin  with  blue  ribbons,  clapping  their  hands  and 
laughing  when  he  found  it  out.  You  know  what 
those  peaches  mean  ?  They  mean  kisses,"  said 
Dhudu,  coloring ;  "  and  it  made  my  brother  so  ner 
vous,  for  the  men  were  in  the  outer  room,  and  might 
have  heard  all  about  it.  He  would  be  sorry  to  have 
them  punished;  yet  they  make  his  life  miserable. 
That  pretty  one  is  the  worst  of  all,  she  is  so  daring. 
I  visit  at  that  harem,  and  went  with  my  brother  one 
morning.  Knowing  them  so  well,  I  took  him  in  at 
the  garden  entrance,  the  way  I  always  go  myself. 
We  heard  somebody  laugh,  a  loud,  merry  laugh,  and 
oh,  what  a  fright  I  was  in !  There  she  was,  up  in  a 
peach  tree.  My  brother  turned  his  head  away,  and 
walked  on  very  fast.  She  pelted  peaches  at  him,  then 
got  out  of  the  tree,  and  would  have  run  after  him  if 
I  had  not  stopped  her."  And  here  poor  Dhudu  fairly 
cried,  "  What  can  my  brother  do  ?" 

I  thought  this  account  of  a  Turkish  romp  might 
amuse  you  as  it  did  me,  still  sympathizing  with  the 
kind  and  anxious  little  sister. 

I  suppose  these  are  wild  and  original  specimens  of 
Turkish  ladies :  those  of  rank  are  usually  very  peace 
ful  and  polite,  I  believe,  although  perfectly  ignorant 
of  even  their  letters.  The  little  golden  flower  which 
I  enclose  was  given  me  by  a  gentle  and  pretty  Turkish 
lady  yesterday;  it  is  the  blossom  of  a  sort  of  mimosa, 
and  is  greatly  prized  here  for  its  scent,  which  I  think 
much  too  powerful  to  be  agreeable.  Small  bunches 
are  sold  in  the  streets  of  Stamboul  and  Pera,  prettily 
tied  on  fine  branches  of  cypress  or  arbor- vitse ;  for  the 
mimosa  bears  so  few  leaves  itself,  that  they  are  too 


CHIBOUQUES.  299 

valuable  to  be  plucked.  "We  have  some  very  pretty 
gardens  here,  on  the  hill  opposite,  especially  straw 
berry-gardens,  where  I  am  told  that  in  May  vast  num 
bers  of  people  come,  and  sit  on  cushions  on  the  grass, 
and  enjoy  the  ripe  fruit.  This  is  the  village,  too,  in 
which  the  famous  jasmine-sticks  for  chibouques  are 
principally  grown.  The  gardens  look  very  pretty, 
the  trees  being  trained  as  standards,  from  seven  to  ten 
feet  high,  and  crowned  with  leaves  and  flowers.  Great 
care  is  taken  of  these  tall  stems,  which  are  bound 
round  with  linen.  Tell  Uncle  Albert  that  I  can  get 
him  a  beautiful  jasmine-stick  here  for  a  few  piastres. 
An  amber  mouth-piece  may  cost  from  five  pounds  to 
fifty  or  sixty — about  the  latter,  if  set  with  brilliants. 
I  am  told  that  Kedshid  Pasha  has  two  pipes  valued  at 
eight  hundred  pounds  each.  He  is  reported  to  be  the 
richest  man  in  Turkey,  as  well  as  one  of  the  best  and 
most  enlightened;  and  great  things  are  confidently 
prophesied  of  him,  should  he  ever  come  into  power 
again. 

I  must  conclude  my  long  epistle,  or  the  mail  will 
start  without  it.  I  missed  the  grand  review  at  Scutari 
last  Monday.  The  Sultan  was  there,  and  they  say 
that  it  was  a  very  fine  sight ;  our  troops  looked  mag 
nificent.  By  the  way,  I  went  the  other  day  to  Kadikoi, 
the  next  village  to  Scutari,  with  Mrs.  Cumberbatch,  to 
visit  Mrs.  Sanderson,  the  wife 'of  the  Consul  of  Broussa. 
I  had  been  there  some  time  before  with  her  brother, 
Dr.  Zohrab.  They  then  lived  in  a  pretty  cottage  close 
to  the  sea,  which  was  easy  enough  to  find,  for  your 
caique  landed  you  on  a  rough  little  platform  by  the 
door.  Now,  to  my  surprise,  all  the  houses  dotting  the 
shore  of  the  Sea  of  Marmora,  and  clustering  thickly 


300  IN   AND  ABOUND  STAMBOUL. 

behind,  with,  so  lovely  a  view  of  mountains  and  waves, 
had  entirely  disappeared,  and  nothing  but  a  heap  of 
ruins  met  our  eyes.  We  had  heard  the  fire-guns  one 
dark  night  a  short  time  ago,  and  had  been  told  that 
the  fire  was  at  Kadikoi,  but  never  expected  to  find 
nearly  the  whole  of  the  village  laid  low.  "We  were 
very  much  puzzled  at  first  to  know  what  to  do ;  but 
after  wandering  about  for  some  time  among  the 
charred  foundations  of  houses,  and  ruins  of  little 
streets  and  byeways,  we  met  a  couple  of  sturdy  Greeks 
strolling  along,  who,  in  answer  to  the  cavass's  in 
quiries  for  the  family  we  were  in  search  of,  pointed  to 
a  few  houses  still  standing  on  the  hill  above.  So  up 
we  scrambled,  in  the  burning  sun,  through  steep  and 
narrow  pathways  of  stones  and  mortar,  thinking  how 
terribly  the  poor  ladies  and  every  one  else  must  have 
been  frightened  by  so  vast  a  fire.  Here  and  there  we 
saw  a  Turk  quietly  gazing  on  the  spot  where  perhaps 
his  house  once  stood,  or  smoking  contentedly  at  the 
opening  of  a  tent  put  up  within  the  scorched  founda 
tion-stones,  and  beside  the  torn  and  broken  walnut- 
trees — the  poor  village  trees,  under  whose  shade  so 
many  cups  of  coffee  had  been  drunk,  so  many  chibou 
ques  smoked !  It  was  a  melancholy  sight,  for  many 
of  these  poor  people  are  never  able  to  erect  their 
houses  again,  or  at  least  have  to  spend  months,  and 
even  years,  in  a  thin  and  leaky  tent.  At  last  we 
reached  a  kind  of  narrow  street  at  the  top  of  the  hill, 
between  high  garden-walls,  and  every  now  and  then 
came  to  a  closely-latticed  house,  surrounded  by  beau 
tiful  gardens.  We  heard  the  buzz  of  soft  voices,  and 
saw  shadows  flitting  across  the  close  bars,  as  you  often 
do  when  passing  these  poor  prisoners  on  a  sunny  day. 


RAMAZAN.  301 

We  now  soon  found  our  kind  friends,  and  rested 
pleasantly.  Ramazan,  the  great  Turkish  fast,  begins 
in  a  few  days,  the  ladies  told  us.  Every  night  the 
city  and  mosques  will  be  illuminated ;  they  say  that  it 
is  a  most  beautiful  sight.  But  I  must  conclude,  or  I 
shall  certainly,  in  my  fatigue,  writing  so  much  of  mat 
ters  Eastern,  conjure  up  some  frightful  Genii  of  the 
"Arabian  Nights,"  which,  to  say  the  least,  would 
frighten  poor  little  Fuad,  sitting  so  faithfully  beside 
me. 

26 


LETTEE    XXXV. 

EXCURSION   TO   THK  CRIMEA  —  WILD   DOGS  —  FLEAS  —  INVASION    OF   EATS 
AND    MICE — ENCOUNTER   WITH   A    SPIDER — GARDENING. 

Orta-kioy,  April   22,  1856. 

My  dear  Mother : 

Before  this  reaches  you  I  shall  have  been  to 
Sebastopol  and  returned.  Mrs.  Brett,  my  cousin  Henry, 
Mr.  Rumball  and  myself,  with  two  maids  and  an 
orderly  of  Major  Brett's,  start  from  Tophana  to-mor 
row  morning.  It  is  lovely  weather,  and  we  hope  to 
get  there  in  thirty  hours.  To  our  great  disappoint 
ment,  neither  Major  Brett  nor  Edmund  can  accompany 
us ;  but  they  do  not  wish  us  to  lose  this  opportunity 
of  seeing  the  breaking-up  of  the  camp  before  Sebasto 
pol,  or  rather  its  ruins.  We  have  pressing  and  hos 
pitable  invitations  from  all  our  Crimean  acquaintance, 
to  spare  tents,  clean  straw,  ruined  outhouses,  and  capi 
tal  horses  and  mules.  Kussian  officers  and  their  ladies 
come  down  to  the  camp  almost  every  day,  and  we  are 
looking  forward  with  the  greatest  pleasure  to  our  ex 
pedition.  Hundreds  of  troops  are  daily  embarking 
from  Balaklava.  We  shall  be  only  just  in  time  to 
have  a  good  idea  of  the  grand  encampment. 

I  shall  not  have  returned  to  Constantinople  in  time 
for  the  next  mail,  so  do  not  be  uneasy  at  any  unusual 
silence.  Every  time  the  wind  waves  the  fir-trees  at 
Weybridge,  do  not  imagine  a  tempest  on  the  Black 
Sea,  or  fancy  you  see  me  clinging  to  a  broken  mast, 
or  hencoop,  on  the  wildest  breaker  there.  I  will  write 
(302) 


FLEAS — MICE — KATS.  803 

immediately  on  my  return.  Meanwhile  I  am  hardly 
sorry  to  leave  Orta-kioy,  for  our  lives  are  literally  made 
miserable  by  the  fleas,  which,  as  I  told  you,  began  to 
appear  in  alarming  numbers  immediately  on  the  ap 
proach  of  warm  Spring  weather.  We  have  passed 
whole  nights  without  sleeping  one  moment.  Morning 
after  morning  I  see  the  sunrise  from  the  divan  in  the 
outer  room,  where  I  have  either  sat  quietly  for  hours, 
or  wandered  about  despondingly  in  utter  despair  of 
sleep. 

Sometimes  I  light  a  lamp,  and  attempt  to  read ;  but 
a  large  party  of  wild  dogs  have  taken  up  their  abode 
in  the  ruined  garden  of  one  of  the  burnt-down  houses 
opposite  my  window.  "Whether  other  dogs  intrude 
on  their  beat,  or  what  it  can  be,  I  know  not ;  but 
about  every  ten  minutes  one  or  two  sharp  voices  give 
an  alarm,  and  then  the  whole  pack  sweeps  desperately 
down,  yelling  and  barking  in  the  most  hideous  man 
ner  you  can  conceive.  About  midnight  out  creep  the 
mice,  which,  however,  do  not  much  trouble  me,  if  even 
they  carry  on  their  gambols  close  to  me.  Bats  run 
between  the  rafters  over  the  ceiling  like  so  many  cart 
horses,  and,  by  the  time  I  beat  a  retreat,  may  be  heard 
pattering  briskly  on  the  keys  of  the  piano-forte.  Last 
week  two  of  them  jumped  out  of  it ;  and  on  some  of  the 
notes  of  this  unfortunate  instrument  seeming  rather 
more  out  of  temper  than  usual,  we  investigated  the 
matter,  and  Apple-blossom  fled  precipitately  from  a 
huge  old  rat,  who  bounced  out  in  her  face,  leaving  a 
comfortable  nest  lined  with  bones  and  other  delicacies 
behind  him,  which  no  doubt  he  had  been  preparing 
for  a  very  happy  family.  The  numerous  wild- cats  sit 
upon  the  housetop,  and  howl,  scream,  and  quarrel,  but 


30-i  IN   AND   ABOUND   STAMBOUL. 

do  not  seem  to  think  of  interfering  with  either  rats  or 
mice,  after  the  fashion  of  respectable  Western  felines ; 
they  only  unite  with  all  the  other  creatures  in  making 
night  terrible.  It  is  quite  tragi-comic  to  see  us  all 
meet  in  the  morning,  worn,  feverish,  and  dispirited. 
At  first  we  lamented  and  bemoaned  with  each  other 
loudly,  but  have  now  become  less  lachrymose  on  the 
subject,  merely  bestowing  a  glance  of  pity  on  the  last 
languid  arrival  at  the  breakfast-table,  or  an  inquiry  as 
to  the  particular  species  of  enemy  from  which  the  pa 
tient  may  have  suffered  most. 

"Fleas?"— "No,  worse."  " Dreadful!  Another 
cup  of  tea  ?  "What  is  to  be  done  1" — "  Dogs  ?"  (to  my 
cousin  Henry,  who  is  really  ill).  "No,  mice;  and  a 
rat,  who  would  sit  on  my  bed  dressing  his  whiskers." 
— "  Was  that  you,  walking  the  garden  like  a  ghost  in 
a  white  sheet?"  "Were  you  sitting  on  the  doorsteps 
at  sunrise  this  morning  ?"  "  The  mosquito  season  is 
coming  on  soon," — with  a  deep  sigh ;  "we  seem  about 
as  unequal  to  it  as  they  say  France  is  to  a  continuance 
of  the  war."  However,  we  have  hopes  of  getting  rid 
of  our  worst  enemies,  the  fleas ;  for  while  I  am  away, 
Edmund  goes  on  a  visit,  and  Vassili  promises  to  have 
all  the  matting  taken  up  and  every  room  well  washed. 
The  matting  is  very  old,  and  it  is  no  longer  of  any  use 
merely  to  wash  its  surface ;  no  doubt  the  habitation  of 
the  multitude  is  underneath.  I  have  often  been  puz 
zled  at  the  contradictory  accounts  of  travelers  on  this 
subject ;  many  speak  of  torments  they  have  endured, 
and  yet  all  agree  about  the  perfect  cleanliness  of 
Turkish  houses.  The  explanation  is,  that  in  Turkey 
no  really  good  houses  are  ever  let  furnished,  or 
accessible  to  strangers.  There  are  no  Turkish  hotels, 


A   FIELD   FOR  NATURALISTS.  805 

no  refuge  for  travelers  but  the  caravanserais  of  the 
"  Arabian  Nights"  and  the  peasant's  hut. 

Lodgings  are  only  let  by  Greeks,  and  mixed  races 
of  the  lower  and  dirty  order,  and  fleas  multiply  won 
derfully  in  a  dry  and  warm  climate  like  this,  unless  a 
house  is  kept  clean  and  frequently  washed,  as  the  large 
Turkish  houses  are.  The  kiosk  in  which  we  live  has 
been  uninhabited  for  some  time,  the  mattings  are 
never  scrubbed,  and  the  divans  never  beaten ;  so  we 
have  suffered,  as  I  say,  beyond  conception.  Greeks 
and  Armenians  of  the  lower  class  think  nothing  of 
fleas  here,  and  those  who  have  not  many  servants, 
get  used  to  them.  Besides  all  these  pleasant  crea 
tures,  we  are  sometimes  enlivened  by  the  visit  of  a 
centipede  or  two.  I  believe  that  all  my  movements 
are  now  rather  grave  and  sedate,  but  I  flew  round 
the  salaamlik  faster  than  ever  young  lady  whirled  in 
a  polka,  one  quiet  evening,  on  seeing  one  beneath 
the  folds  of  my  muslin  dress.  Apple-blossom  rushed 
in  with  the  charcoal  pincers  in  answer  to  my  call, 
and  skillfully  seized  the  creature,  to  my  great  satis 
faction.  Mr.  Frank  Buckland  ought  to  be  here — he 
could  carry  on  his  favorite  studies  so  pleasantly, 
finding  interesting  subjects  and  specimens  on  his  very 
table,  without  losing  valuable  time  in  search  of  them ; 
in  fact,  I  think  they  would  walk  fearlessly  into  his 
microscope. 

The  other  evening  I  happened  to  be  quite  alone, 
writing  industriously  for  the  morrow's  mail.  It  was 
one  of  those  ghostly  nights,  when  the  wind  howls  a 
little,  and  white  clouds  hurry  over  the  moon,  and 
curtains  by  open  windows  sway  to  and  fro,  rustling 
drearily,  and  strange  footsteps  seem  to  fall  about  the 
26* 


306  IX    AND    AROUND    STAMBOUL. 

house.  It  was  late,  and  I  was  very  tired,  having 
written  several  long  letters.  Vassili  had  placed  a 
cake — one  of  his  best  "dolces" — with  some  sherry 
and  water  on  the  table  before  me.  Presently  I  heard 
a  noise,  something  like  the  pattering  of  a  kid's  foot, 
on  some  papers  scattered  about,  and  looking  up, 
beheld  an  enormous  spider  making  toward  the  cake. 
Any  thing  so  huge  of  the  genus  I  never  beheld ;  his 
long,  hairy  legs  threw  a  fearful  shadow  on  the  white 
paper.  Although  accustomed  to  watching  spiders,  I 
could  not  help  shuddering  at  this  gaunt  midnight 
visitor,  who  made  a  dash  toward  me  when  I  moved 
my  hand,  and  was  evidently  disposed  to  fight  for  the 
cake.  To  that  he  was  quite  welcome,  but  I  so 
thoroughly  objected  to  the  risk  of  his  running  over 
my  hand,  that  I  resolved  on  capturing  him  if  possible. 
For  an  instant  we  menaced  each  other ;  then,  as  quick 
as  lightning,  I  popped  my  glass  over  him.  He  gave 
one  rapid  run  round  it,  and  finding  no  possible  escape, 
sat  a  surly  prisoner  until  Edmund  came  home,  and  we 
contrived  to  put  him  out  of  the  window  unhurt. 
Certainly  this  would  have  been  a  splendid  specimen 
for  our  talented  and  earnest  friend.  Oscu  would 
charm  him  too,  by  knowing  where  to  look  for  scor 
pions  about  the  gravel-paths  and  old  woodwork  here, 
and  by  fearlessly  watching  their  little  forceps  seize 
upon  flies,  as  she  suns  herself  under  the  verandah  of 
their  worm-eaten  house.  In  the  garden  I  sometimes 
find  enormous  green  locusts,  and  on  the  hills  grass 
hoppers,  with  wings  and  legs  of  every  color,  from  the 
brightest  blue  to  the  deepest  red.  Hundreds  of  these 
fly  before  your  feet  in  summer-time,  and  the  effect  is 
very  curious ;  when  the  wings  are  opened  for  a  leap, 


SPRING.  307 

the  bright  colors  gleam  in  the  sunshine,  and  when 
they  alight  on  the  ground,  all  vanishes  into  the  light- 
brown  of  their  backs  and  of  the  scorched  turf,  until 
the  next  rose-colored  leap  forward. 

I  must  conclude :  my  time  for  writing  is  shortened 
to-day,  for  I  have  been  very  busy  in  the  garden. 
Simione  has  brought  out  all  his  fine  orange  and  lemon 
trees,  acacias,  and  tree-geraniums  from  the  conserva 
tory,  and  we  have  been  placing  them  up  the  door 
steps,  and  bordering  the  quaint  little  garden  with 
them,  after  the  favorite  way  here.  Spring  has  come 
011  very  rapidly.  The  fig-tree  by  my  window  is  put 
ting  forth  its  green  leaves,  and  the  large  passion-flower 
over  the  trellis-work  begins  to  revive  after  the  winter 
storms ;  it  has  never  lost  its  leaves,  and  the  verbenas 
in  the  open  borders  have  not  been  killed  by  the  frosts, 
which,  although  sharp,  do  not  last  so  long  as  in 
England. 

Again  adieu,  my  dear  mother !  I  will  write  from 
Balaklava,  but  do  not  be  anxious  if  one  mail  arrives 
without  any  news,  as  I  may  not  have  a  letter  ready  on 
our  arrival  there. 


LETTBE    XXXVI. 

KETURN  FROM   THE  CRIMEA — COMMENCEMENT  OP   THE  FAST   OF   RAMAZAW 
PROTESTANT   CHURCH — RETURN  OF   THE   ARMY — THE   PEACE. 

Balaklava,  April  29th,  1856. 
My  dear  Mother : 

I  hope  you  received  my  letter  announcing  our 
safe  arrival  here.  A  mail  is  just  starting  for  England, 
and  I  send  these  few  lines,  to  let  you  know  that  we 
return  to  Constantinople  to-day,  after  a  delightful 
week  in  the  Crimea,  which  ought  to  have  been  three, 
to  enable  us  to  see  all  we  wished.  On  Thursday  we 
spent  a  long  day  at  Sebastopol ;  yesterday  Colonel 
Hardinge  most  kindly  made  a  party  for  us  to  the 
Valley  of  Baidar ;  but  I  must  defer  all  accounts  for 
a  long  letter  when  I  have  more  time.  I  can  hardly 
believe  that  we  have  watched  the  sunset  from  the 
Kedan,  listened  to  linnets  singing  on  the  banks  of 
the  Tchernaya,  and  gathered  you  some  wild  flowers 
from  its  stony  banks  ;  all  seems  so  peaceful  now  ! 
General  Windham  was  here  yesterday.  We  have  seen 
Crimean  heroes  to  our  heart's  content,  and  talk  in  our 
sleep  of  the  Mamelon  and  Malakoff. 

Orta-kioy,  May  7th. 

Here  I  am  quietly  settled  in  our  little  kiosk  again, 
after  all  the  pleasure  as  well  as  fatigue  of  our  excur 
sion  to  the  Crimea.  Every  room  has  been  thoroughly 
cleaned,  the  mattings  taken  up,  and  we  can  now  sleep 
in  peace.  My  dear  little  Fuad  was  so  delighted  to 
(308) 


THE  PROTESTANT  CHURCH.  309 

see  me  home  again.  How  I  wish  you  could  see  the 
Bosphorus  in  its  spring  dress ;  it  is  really  like  para 
dise  ;  and  the  nightingales  are  singing  the  whole  day 
long.  Close  to  the  cypress-trees  on  the  shores  are 
shrubs  covered  with  a  rich  pink  blossom  ;  the  contrast 
is  beautiful. 

Eamazan  began  yesterday,  and  the  minarets  were 
illuminated  in  the  evening  with  wreaths  of  light. 
The  thirty-seventh  day  is  the  grand  one,  when  the 
Sultan  goes  to  mosque  at  night,  in  his  beautiful  state 
caiques. 

Mr.  Mansfield  has  been  staying  with  us  here,  foot 
sore  from  his  tremendous  walks  in  the  Crimea,  but 
greatly  enjoying  this  little  garden,  which  is  extremely 
pretty  now,  with  the  passion-flower  in  full  beauty  over 
the  arbor,  orange-trees  and  tree-geraniums  all  put  out 
round  the  borders,  and  the  old  wooden  balcony  com 
pletely  covered  with  clusters  of  pale  pink  roses. 

The  little  Protestant  church  here,  on  the  other 
hill,  was  opened  last  Sunday.  It  is  a  very  simple  and 
pretty  Gothic  building,  all  of  wood.  The  altar  was 
wreathed  with  wild  flowers,  and  a  very  impressive 
service  was  read  by  the  chaplain  of  the  "  Queen." 
The  bells  sounded  so  sweetly,  ringing  for  the  first 
Protestant  service  on  the  shores  of  the  Bosphorus. 

The  weather  is  warm,  but  with  occasional  showers, 
and  every  thing  looks  as  gay  as  possible.  Ship-loads 
of  troops  are  constantly  passing  down  from  the  Black 
Sea.  Early  in  the  morning  we  hear  the  notes  of  a 
bugle,  followed  by  a  hearty  English  cheer  from  the 
men  on  their  way  home.  Sometimes  a  drum  beats 
three  times,  as  the  transport  steams  slowly  down,  and 
then  as  many  rounds  of  cheers  are  given.  The  red- 


310  IN   AND   AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

coats  are  clustered,  thick  as  bees,  upon  deck.  I  like 
to  see  them  returning  home,  much  better  than  to  watch 
them  going  up  to  the  Crimea,  as  I  used  to  do  before 
Sebastopol  was  taken.  However,  no  one  approves  of 
this  "  French  Peace,"  as  it  is  called ;  and  I  do  not  like 
the  idea  of  our  countrymen  all  going  away,  and  leav 
ing  us  behind  in  this  strange  land.  I  long  for  home, 
and  to  see  a  green  lane,  and  a  cottage,  and  a  bit  of  fern 
again,  after  all  this  fine  panoramic  scenery,  which 
never  touches  one's  heart. 


LETTEK    XXXVII. 

START    FOR   THE    CRIMEA — THE    BOSPHORUS — A   SWELL    ON    THE    BLACK 

SEA — PLEASURES  OF  THE  VOYAGE HARBOR  OF  BALAKLAVA CHANGES 

ACCOMPLISHED. 

Constantinople,  May,  1856. 
My  dear  Mrs.  Austin 

I  am  much  flattered  and  pleased  to  find  that 
my  letters  from  this  part  of  the  world  afford  you  any 
entertainment^  and  now  send  you  a  short  account  of 
our  trip  to  the  Crimea.  1  have  not  had  time  to  do 
this  before,  having  been  out  a  great  deal.  I  was 
unwilling  too  to  miss  writing  you  something  about 
the  illuminations  of  Ramazan  and  the  three  days' 
Feast  of  Bairam,  at  the  moment  it  was  all  passing 
before  me. 

It  was  a  lovely  morning  when  we  started  from 
among  the  forest  of  masts  at  Tophana,  and  wound 
our  way  among  French  and  English  men-of-war, 
transports,  and  gunboats,  into  the  more  open  part  of 
the  Bosphorus.  The  broad  blue  stream  seemed  to 
flow  on  more  gloriously  beautiful  than  ever,  between 
the  hills  and  valleys  of  the  two  great  continents, 
already  dressed  in  the  delicate  green  of  spring.  Even 
those  who  had  lived  here  for  years,  stood  on  deck, 
glass  in  hand  and  thoroughly  enchanted,  marking  the 
bright  pink  blossoms  of  the  Judas-tree,  contrasted 
with  the  rich,  dark  green  of  the  cypress,  slopes  of 
white  strawberry -blossoms  glistening  on  the  hillsides, 
with  orange-trees  and  the  gayest  flowers  peeping 

(311) 


312  IN   AND   AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

through  the  trellised  walls  of  many  a  harem-garden. 
On  we  swept  through  the  sparkling  waters,  passing 
many  a  gay  caique,  many  a  light  Greek  barque,  with  its 
sails  set  and  pennants  fluttering  merrily  in  the  breeze. 
The  white  tents  of  the  German  Legion,  encamped  on 
the  heights  of  Kulalee,  shone  in  the  morning  sun. 
On  we  SAvept,  past  the  hanging  woods  of  Kandelij, 
past  Therapia  and  its  arbutus-covered  hills,  past 
Beicos  Bay  and  the  numerous  men-of-war  lying  at 
anchor  there,  past  the  Giant's  Mountain  and  its  tra 
ditionary  grave  of  Joshua,  past  the  ancient  ivy-covered 
Castle  of  Roumelia.  Then  we  soon  came  to  the  sharp 
and  rugged  rocks,  so  famed  in  classic  story,  defending 
the  wild  and  barren-looking  shores  of  the  Black  Sea. 
Breakers  were  raging  furiously  against  the  sides  of  the 
watch-tower,  and  the  sea  looked  dark  and  threatening 
before  us — so  sudden  a  change,  from  the  bright  and 
sunny  waters  of  the  Bosphorus !  How  many,  we 
thought,  have  looked  on  these  gloomy  shores  since 
the  war  began,  passing  by  them  never  to  return ! 

At  last  we  were  fairly  on  the  Black  Sea.  There 
was  little  wind,  but  what  is  called  a  heavy  swell 
made  our  small  steamer  roll  and  pitch  in  a  distressing 
manner.  One  by  one  the  smiling  and  enthusiastic 
voyagers  of  the  Bosphorus  disappeared;  no  laughs 
were  longer  heard  on  the  deck,  people  returned  books 
and  glasses  to  each  other,  folded  their  wrappings 
round  them,  and  assumed  a  quiet  and  distant  de 
meanor.  Our  poor  maids  became  dreadfully  ill  and 
desponding,  and  at  last  lay  helplessly  in  their  berths. 
Mrs.  Brett  and  myself  held  out  bravely  to  the  last, 
when  I  saw  her  grow  pale,  looking  on  those  terrible 
waves.  I  was  just  able  to  place  a  pillow  under  her 


ON  THE   BLACK    SEA.  313 

head,  and  then  I,  who  have  always  boasted  my  good 
seamanship,  lay  deadly  faint  on  the  deck  beside  her, 
the  ship  pitching  more  and  more  every  moment  in 
that  remorseless  sea,  cruel  as  in  ancient  days ! 

"Poor  ladies!"  said  a  kind  old  gentleman,  who  was 
not  ill,  laying  another  warm  cloak  over  us.  "Just 
like  the  Babes  in  the  Wood !"  lisped  a  traveling  ex 
quisite,  of  any  thing  but  gigantic  proportions,  in  a 
pitying  tone;  "it  is  certainly  true  that  we  are  the 
stronger  sex !"  I  was  just  well  enough  to  feel  con 
scious  of  what  a  capital  sketch  this  would  make  for 
our  English  friend  "  Punch." 

"Dinner,  ladies!"  screamed  the  cabin-boy.  We  had 
thought  him  such  a  pretty  boy  in  the  morning ;  now 
he  appeared  to  us  something  worse  than  demon,  and 
the  voices  of  those  able  to  eat  below  seemed  like  the 
horrid  chattering  of  evil  spirits.  Somebody  said  some 
thing  about  Sir  Walter  Scott,  and  that  "  drunken  as 
the  Baltic  "  was  nothing  to  this  mad  tossing  about ; 
but  we  were  surly,  and  turned  our  heads  away,  lying 
cold  and  miserable  under  our  cloaks,  until  a  heavy 
night  mist  sent  us  staggering  down  to  all  the  horrors 
of  the  ladies'  cabin  below.  I  will  not  dwell  on  our 
sufferings;  we  could  but  bear  them  well,  thinking  con 
stantly  of  our  poor  soldiers,  tossed  about  in  that  dread 
ful  sea,  and  lost  in  last  November's  tempest! — we, 
with  every  comfort  and  bent  on  our  amusement — they 
crowded,  comparatively  uncared  for,  and  bound  to  all 
the  sufferings  of  war. 

After  another  rough  day  and  night,  another  morn 
ing  dawned,  cold  and  chilly.  Ill  and  depressed,  we 
felt  as  glad  to  hear  the  anchor  drop  as  we  could  feel 
about  any  thing,  and  made  an  effort  to  look  out  of  a 
27 


81-i  IN    AND   AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

port-hole.  Such  barren,  cheerless  rocks,  after  the 
sunny  hills  we  had  left  behind!  I  remember  the 
thought,  or  rather  the  hope,  which  crossed  my  mind : 
"  Life's  weary  journey  over,  may  we  arrive  at  a  fairer 
shore  !"  It  was  too  rough  to  land ;  so,  when  dressed, 
we  paced  the  deck,  gazing  on  the  grand  but  inhospit 
able  coast,  and  full  of  sad  thoughts  of  all  that  had 
been  suffered  there.  Only  three  or  four  vessels  were 
anchored  near  us;  and  in  the  profound  silence  we 
heard  birds  piping  amongst  the  gray  rocks,  over 
which  some  huge  snow-piled  clouds  were  majesti 
cally  rolling.  The  steward,  coming  on  deck,  told  us 
that  the  captain  had  gone  on  shore  to  get  permission 
for  his  vessel  to  enter  the  harbor ;  but  that  this  was 
very  difficult,  crowded  as  it  was  now.  He  had  been 
in  the  fearful  storm  when  so  many  of  our  transports 
were  lost,  and  gave  us  some  obliging  (but,  in  our 
depressed  state,  not  particularly  cheering)  information 
as  to  the  almost  impossibility  of  keeping  a 'vessel  off 
the  rocks  in  the  event  of  a  gale  blowing  strong  upon 
them ;  how  we  were  anchored  in  the  very  spot  where 
the  ill-fated  "Prince"  went  down;  how  unlikely  it 
was  that  the  captain  would  obtain  permission  from 
the  admiral  to  enter  the  harbor ;  and  lastly,  that,  if 
the  breeze  kept  on  blowing  steadily  as  it  did  now,  we 
should  have  an  excellent  opportunity  of  seeing  what 
the  sea  could  do  here.  However,  nothing  was  to  be 
done  but  to  wait  patiently,  and  a  fellow-passenger 
kindly  pointed  out  to  us  General  Marmora's  white 
tomb  high  on  the  cliff  above,  the  ancient  Genoese 
tower,  and  Miss  Nightingale's  wooden  hospital  huts. 

The  captain  returned,  and  we  met  him  anxiously. 
To  our  dismay,  he  said  that  the  admiral's  orders  were 


VISIT   TO   THE   CRIMEA.  315 

imperative:  not  another  merchant-vessel  was  to  be 
admitted  into  the  harbor,  already  too  much  crowded. 
However,  Mrs.  Brett  had  long  before  sent  her  orderly 
on  shore  with  our  letters ;  some  were  to  be  dispatched 
up  in  front,  but  one  of  hers  was  fortunately  addressed 
to  Colonel  Hardinge,  Commandant  of  Balaklava,  an 
old  friend  of  Maior  Brett's.  How  erlad  we  were  when 

J  O 

the  colonel  came  on  board,  and  kindly  offered  to  take 
us  on  shore.  From  the  sea,  nothing  is  seen  of  the 
harbor  but  clusters  of  tall  masts,  at  some  distance, 
apparently  inland,  and  surrounded  by  cliffs.  As  you 
row  on,  a  small  opening  in  the  rocks  appears,  and, 
corkscrew-like,  you  wind  gradually  into  the  creek, 
overhung  on  both  sides  by  grim  and  gigantic  cliffs, 
and  commanded  by  the  still  formidable  old  tower. 
It  was  certainly  a  wonderful  sight,  the  vast  crowds 
of  shipping,  the  heights  thickly  studded  with  huts 
and  soldiers,  officers  riding  down,  men,  mules,  and 
horses,  thick  as  bees,  busily  cutting  a  steep  and  wind 
ing  road.  Sardinians  strolling  here,  sailors  wander 
ing  there,  red-coats  everywhere ;  high  above,  and  far 
down  below,  the  same  ever-shifting,  crowded  pano 
rama  of  one  scene  of  the  great  Russian  War.  We 
walked  along  the  quay.  What  a  sight  it  was,  to 
look  on  the  vast  preparations  for  the  return  home  of 
a  great  army !  Some  of  the  countless  ships  were  tak 
ing  in  crowds  of  hurrying  soldiers ;  others,  loads  of 
shot  and  shell,  brought  down  from  the  camp  by 
fine  sleek  mules ;  commissariat  stores  of  all  kinds, 
Russian  cannon,  vast  quantities  of  iron,  soldiers'  cloth 
ing  and  accoutrements.  The  railway-cars  were  busily 
at  work,  transporting  huge  bales  and  packages, 
Officers,  naval  and  military,  were  walking  or  riding 
up  and  down,  inspecting,  directing,  and  commanding. 


316  IN   AND   AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

All  was  activity,  energy  of  head  and  hand,  so  doubly 
striking  to  us,  having  but  just  left  Constantinople. 
Every  appliance  of  industry  and  invention  was  here ; 
there,  all  falling  into  decay  and  corruption,  from  a 
seemingly  charmed  and  fatal  lethargy.  It  was  curious 
to  see,  at  a  single  glance  around,  the  greatness  of  the 
nation,  whose  sons  showed  so  strangely  among  those 
remote  and  frowning  heights,  and  the  vast  and  dreary 
steppes  beyond.  Even  the  wretched  mudbanks  of 
the  harbor  were  metamorphosed  into  a  broad  and  ex 
cellent  quay,  the  railway  coming  down  close  upon  it. 
The  Russians  will  surely  never  recognize  the  place 
on  their  return,  Colonel  Hardinge  and  others  have 
worked  so  untiringly  and  so  well.  The  foundation 
of  this  long  quay  was  made  by  throwing  old  hampers, 
filled  with  stones  and  pieces  of  rock,  into  the  broad 
border  of  the  morass.  But  perhaps  I  may  be  telling 
what  you  know  already. 

After  hearing  all  the  horrors  of  this  place  when 
our  army  landed — men  and  horses  sticking  in  mud 
and  mire — it  seems  now,  with  its  railway  and  fine 
roads,  a  marvelous  picture  of  skill  and  industry. 
People  in  England  can  hardly  form  an  idea  of  what 
our  officers  and  men  have  accomplished,  of  the  gigan 
tic  difficulties  overcome  at  a  fearful  cost.  "We  were 
sorry  to  quit  the  busy  shore,  crowded  with  our  coun 
trymen,  to  return  to  the  ship.  After  having  been  so 
much  among  Turks  and  Eastern  people,  the  sound  of 
many  English  voices  was  very  pleasant. 

But  I  must  conclude,  my  dear  Mrs.  Austin,  or  I 
shall  lose  the  mail,  or  tire  you.  My  letter  has  grown 
so  much  longer  than  I  intended  it  to  be,  that  I  must 
send  the  rest  of  it  in  my  next  huge  envelope  for 
Wevbridge. 


LETTEK    XXXVIII. 

LANDING    AT    BALAKLAVA COLONEL    HARDINGE — RUSSIAN    GOVERNOR'S 

HOUSE — A  PRISONER  OF  WAR HEIGHTS  OF  BALAKLAVA MISS    NIGHT 
INGALE'S  HOSPITAL — "THE  SISTERS" — FLOWERS — SOUVENIR  OF  THE 

GOVERNOR. 

Constantinople,  May,  1856. 

My  dear  Mrs.  Austin : 

"We  passed  a  rather  rough  night  outside  the 
harbor  of  Balaklava,  on  our  return  to  the  ship,  and  in 
the  morning  the  sea  was  so  high,  that  we  began  to  fear 
it  would  be  impossible  to  land.  Unaccountably  we 
had  received  no  reply  from  any  of  the  letters  sent 
up  to  the  front,  and  it  seemed  that  we  were  to  be 
prisoners  on  a  stormy  coast,  and  to  see  nothing  more 
of  the  Crimea,  thanks  to  the  admiral,  against  whom 
I  vented  my  displeasure  as  we  paced  the  deck.  "  Pa 
tience  I"  said  my  pretty,  good-tempered  friend;  "there 
is  a  boat  coming  to  us ;"  and,  dancing  up  and  down 
on  the  great  waves,  came  Colonel  Hardinge  again, 
and  his  stout  rowers.  We  looked  upon  him  as  our 
good  genius,  especially  when  he  offered  us  a  room 
at  head- quarters,  that  we  might  not  risk  being  kept 
out  at  sea.  I  don't  think  invitations  are  often  more 
cordially  given,  and  am  certain  that  none  was  ever 
more  delightfully  received.  Leaving  our  maids  to 
pack  up  and  come  on  shore  in  the  ship's  boat  with  the 
orderly,  we  stepped  into  the  dancing  boat  below. 

We  were  soon  on  the  crowded  quay.     The  square, 
low-roofed,   white   house,   with  a  sort  of    balcony  in 
27*  (317) 


318  IN   AND   ABOUND   STAMBOUL. 

front,  which  shows  so  conspicuously  in  the  prints  and 
photographs  of  Balaklava,  is  now  head-quarters,  and 
was  formerly  the  house  of  the  Eussian  governor.  It 
is  built  much  after  the  fashion  of  Greek  houses  here  at 
Constantinople,  with  one  large  room,  from  which 
several  others  open  on  both  sides.  It  was  very  cold, 
with  the  sharp  and  penetrating  east  wind  so  much  felt 
in  the  Crimea.  The  colonel  had  ingeniously  invented 
a  fire-place, '  in  a  hole  in  the  white-washed  wall  form 
erly  appropriated  to  a  stove ;  his  handsome  English 
terrier  was  warming  his  nose  before  it ;  a  real  kettle 
was  singing  merrily  ;  a  few  books  were  strewn  about. 
We  settled  down  joyfully  upon  the  hearth,  and 
thought  ourselves  the  most  fortunate  women  in  the 
world. 

Strange  it  seemed,  to  be  in  a  place  the  name  of 
which  had  thrilled  the  world  with  interest  but  a  few 
months  before,  and  which  we  had  so  little  expected 
to  see — we  two,  strangers  to  each  other  then,  like 
sisters  now.  First,  we  gladdened  our  hearts  with  a ' 
cup  of  tea;  then  we  wrote  letters  to  Constantinople, 
announcing  our  safe  arrival,  and  afterward  looked 
over  the  curious  old  house,  which  seems  to  have  been 
much  knocked  about  when  the  place  was  taken  by 
the  English. 

There  were  only  a  few  old  and  worm-eaten  chairs 
and  tables  in  the  outer  room ;  ugly  brass  candelabra, 
which  the  colonel  had  polished  up  from  their  ancient 
dirt,  were  fixed  against  the  bare  and  white-washed 
walls.  The  large  double  windows  opened  on  to  the 
wooden  balcony.  In  one  of  them  stood  an  equestrian 
statuette  of  Napoleon,  with  both  arms  and  part  of  his 
cocked  hat  knocked  off:  he  had  suffered  severely  in 


VISIT   TO   THE    CRIMEA.  319 

the  war.  One  of  the  opposite  rooms  was  rather  better 
furnished,  and  the  walls  covered  with  paintings  after 
the  manner  of  the  Greek  church.  This  was  doubt 
less,  we  thought,  the  apartment  of  the  governor's 
lady.  Colonel  Hardinge  had  given  strict  orders  that 
nothing  should  be  disturbed ;  and  even  himself  watered 
a  large  and  beautifully  trained  hay-plant  in  the  win 
dow,  which  had  evidently  been  a  great  favorite  with 
the  owner.  In  another  recess  of  the  window  lay  a 
touching  evidence  of  hasty  flight ;  it  was  a  little  doll's 
cap,  with  the  gay  ribbons  not  yet  quite  sewn  on,  and  a 
small  toy  of  seed-beads  of  many  colors,  containing  tiny 
rings  and  necklaces — threaded  perhaps  with  childish 
delight  just  as  our  great  ships  of  war  were  coming  up. 
Colonel  Hardinge  had  one  prisoner  in  the  place,  a 
pretty  pigeon,  which  had  been  caught  and  given  to 
him  at  the  taking  of  Sebastopol.  A  soldier  had  made 
him  a  strange  little  pigeon-house  out  of  some  rough 
wood,  and  after  the  quaint  model  of  the  Greek  churcli 
at  Balaklava.  This  was  placed  on  a  tall  beer -barrel  in 
the  sitting-room,  for  fear  of  rats,  which  abounded  in 
the  governor's  house.  The  captive  surveyed  .us  all 
very  complacently  from  his  high  place,  cooing  occa 
sionally  ;  and  although  his  wing  was  only  clipped,,  he 
never  attempted  to  leave  it.  Outside  the  windows,  on 
the  rough  old  balcony,  was  the  colonel's  garden,  in 
which  he  took  great  interest  during  his  few  moments 
of  leisure.  He  used  to  hang  over  his  mignonette, 
sown  in  deal  boxes,  and  water  his  Irises  and  other 
roots,  with  a  solicitude  enviably  philosophic,  when  one 
considered  that  the  poor  flowers  would  be  left  to  die 
in  a  few  weeks,  after  all  his  care.  This  soldier's 
menage  interested  us  very  much,  although,  on  seeing 


320  IN    AND   ABOUND   STAMBOUL. 

more  of  it,  we  felt  humiliated  to  find  what  delightful 
little  dinners,  and  cheerful,  chatty  fire-places,  our 
masters  can  contrive  to  produce  under  great  difficul 
ties,  without  the  aid  of  a  single  creature  of  woman 
kind. 

The  first  day  of  our  arrival  we  took  a  long  ramble 
on  the  heights  of  Balaklava,  by  the  old  Genoese  castle. 
On  one  side  is  a  solitary  and  magnificent  view  of  sea 
and  cliffs ;  but  pass  a  sharp  and  lofty  turning,  and  the 
crowded  port  beneath,  and  all  the  active  military 
movements,  are  instantly  before  your  eyes.  We  then 
walked  among  the  scattered  wooden  huts  a  little  lower 
down — beautifully  neat  and  clean,  with  broad  and 
well-swept  roads  between. 

Many  of  the  occupants  evidently  took  great  pleasure 
in  the  names  so  carefully  painted  on  some  of  them — 
perhaps  the  same  as  those  in  which  their  wives  and 
children  lived  in  England.  "Albert  Terrace,"  "Pros 
pect  Cottage,"  amused  us  much,  and  especially  one 
tiny  wooden  hut,  looking  not  much  bigger  than  a 
toy  on  those  great  hills,  dignified  with  the  appellation 
of  "  Marine  Villa."  Many  of  these  had  pretty  little 
flower-borders,  about  two  feet  wide,  with  not  a  weed 
to  be  seen,  and  carefully  watered.  Higher  up,  we 
came  to  Miss  Nightingale's  hospital  huts,  built  of  the 
same  long  planks,  and  adorned  with  the  same  neatly 
bordering  flowers.  The  sea  was  glistening  before  us, 
and  as  we  lingered  to  admire  the  fine  view,  and  to  look 
with  interest  about  us,  one  of  the  nurses,  a  kind 
motherly -looking  woman,  came  into  the  little  porch, 
and  invited  us  to  enter  and  rest  after  our  steep  walk, 
which  we  were  very  glad  to  do.  A  deal  stool  was 
kindly  offered  to  us  by  another  and  younger  sister,  a 


VISIT   TO   THE    CK1MEA.  321 

bright,  fresh-looking,  and  intelligent  woman.  On  the 
large  deal  table  was  a  simple  pot  of  wild  flowers,  so 
beautifully  arranged  that  they  instantly  struck  my 
eye.  The  good  sisters  were  enthusiastic  in  their 
praises  of  the  beauty  and  rarity  of  the  flowers  about 
the  heights  and  valleys  of  Balaklava,  of  which  they 
always  gathered  a  fresh  bouquet,  they  said,  in  the 
early  morning  walk  which  each  took  in  turn.  They 
were  most  agreeable  women,  their  eyes  sparkling  with 
interest  in  speaking  of  simple  things  and  fine  views. 
The  first  whom  we  saw,  "Sister  Margaret,"  showed  us 
a  basket  of  three  beautiful  kittens,  which  she  had 
named  Alma,  Balaklava,  and  Inkerman.  The  little 
creatures  were  found  and  saved  at  the  taking  of  Sebas- 
topol ;  they  were  fat  and  playful,  and  seemed  to  delight 
as  much  in  Sister  Margaret,  as  she  did  in  them.  How 
charming  the  little  deal-house  appeared  to  me,  with 
its  perfect  cleanliness,  its  glorious  view,  and  the  health, 
contentment,  and  usefulness  of  its  inmates!  How 
respectable  their  few  wants  seemed ;  how  suited  their 
simple  dress  to  the  stern  realities,  as  well  as  to  the 
charities  of  life ;  how  fearlessly  they  reposed  on  the 
care  and  love  of  God  in  that  lonely  place,  far  away 
from  all  their  friends;  how  earnestly  they  admired 
and  tended  the  few  spring  flowers  of  a  strange  land ; 
these  brave,  quiet  women,  who  had  witnessed  and 
helped  to  relieve  so  much  suffering ! 

This  was  the  pleasantest  visit  I  ever  made.  Miss 
Nightingale  had  been  there  but  a  few  days  before, 
and  this  deal  room  and  stool  were  hers.  There  were 
but  two  convalescent  patients  lying  in  the  little  ward  ; 
but  the  "  Sisters"  said  that  there  was  a  great  deal  of 
fever  still  among  the  Sardinian  troops,  and  that  they 


322  IN   AND   AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

knew  it  by  the  frequent  applications  for  ice  from  their 
camp.  At  last  we  said  adieu,  and  parted  with  regret. 
Walking  homeward  by  another  and  less  frequented 
pathway  over  the  heights,  we  found  many  of  the  wild 
flowers  of  which  the  "  Sisters"  had  spoken.  It  seemed 
a  pity  to  see  horses  tethered  in  the  poor  ruined  vine 
yards,  and  vines  trampled  down,  once  so  carefully 
tended.  It  was  a  curious  scene.  Far  and  wide,  on 
the  hills  and  slopes,  many  a  group  and  many  a  horse 
man  was  returning  to  camp.  The  evening  light  fell 
brightly  on  the  white  crosses  of  the  distant  Sardinian 
cemetery,  and  on  the  tomb  of  their  ill-fated  General 
on  the  cliff;  bugles  were'  ringing  here  and  there,  and 
lights  were  beginning  to  appear  in  the  valley  below. 

We  had  almost  regained  our  quarters,  when  we 
heard  a  voice  calling  to  us;  and  looking  back,  we 
saw  a  soldier,  with  a  bundle  of  flowers  in  his  hand. 
They  were  specimens  of  a  beautiful  blue  and  yellow 
Iris,  which  I  had  admired  at  the  hut.  The  kind 
"  Sisters"  had  hastened  to  get  us  some  roots,  and  had 
sent  the  old  soldier  after  us  with  them.  We  have 
planted  them  in  a  little  box,  and  hope  to  see  them 
flourish  one  day  in  England,  a  remembrance  of  our 
friends  and  of  this  pleasant  walk.  We  made  the 
colonel  a  fresh  bouquet  for  his  table  on  our  return, 
and,  while  the  pleasant  after-dinner  chat  was  going 
on,  prepared  the  different  specimens  of  plants  which 
we  had  found,  to  form  the  first  chapter  of  a  Crimean 
herbarium.  Mr.  Walker,  a  friend  of  Colonel  Har- 
dinge's,  has  arranged  some  beautiful  ones,  from  every 
battle-field  and  all  places  of  interest  here,  and  was 
most  kind  and  patient  in  helping  us. 

We  repaired  to  our  room  early,  anxious  to  be  fresh 


VISIT  TO   THE   CRIMEA.  823 

for  tlie  morrow.  The  maids  were  snugly  ensconced 
on  a  large  sofa  at  the  further  end  of  the  apartment — 
our  "things"  neatly  arranged  on  the  large  and  dreary 
toilette-table  of  the  fugitive  governor's  lady.  A  dilapi 
dated  work-box  stood  on  a  side-table,  the  needles  just 
beginning  to  rust  in  knitting  suddenly  left  off.  A  bou 
quet  of  hay-flowers  stood  in  a  glass  case  beside  it,  and  a 
few  well-thumbed  books  were  scattered  about.  On  a 
chest  of  drawers  lay  a  broken  toy ;  we  hoped  that  the 
little  owner  was  still  safe  and  well.  Opening  a  crazy 
wardrobe,  to  hang  up  my  dress,  the  governor's  uni 
form  quite  startled  me.  There  were  two  rents  on  the 
breast  of  the  coat ;  I  suppose  the  poor  man  had  cut 
off'  his  two  Orders  in  the  hurry  of  flight.  On  how 
many  gala  and  happy  home  days  he  may  have  worn 
them  here  !  We  began  to  grow  nervous,  looking  over 
these  ghostly  things  in  the  deep  silence  of  night ;  and 
were  glad  to  remind  each  other  that  the  governor  and 
his  wife  were  both  alive  and  well.  Presently  the 
challenge  of  the  sentinel,  and  the  cheerful  "All's 
well  1"  reassured  us ;  and  it  was  pleasant  to  sink  to 
sleep,  feeling  that  we  were  guarded  by  English 
soldiers. 


LETTER   XXXIX. 

BALAKLAVA — THE  CAMP THE  BATTLE-FIELD VISIT    TO  THE    MALAKOFF 

AND        THE      REDAN BOTANIZING BAIDAR RETURN      FROM      THE 

CRIMEA. 

Constantinople,  May,  1856. 

My  dear  Mrs.  Austin : 

Very  early  in  the  morning,  as  you  may  sup 
pose,  every  one  was  stirring  at  Balaklava,  and  the 
tramp  of  soldiers,  the  clattering  of  horses  and  mules 
and  the  thousand  other  sounds  of  the  great  embarka 
tion,  began  again  for  the  day.  Colonel  Hardinge  had 
most  kindly  made  arrangements  for  us  to  go  to  Se- 
bastopol,  but  could  not  spare  time  to  go  himself;  it 
was  no  joke  being  commandant  of  Balaklava  just  then. 

Mrs.  Brett,  fortunately  for  her,  is  a  perfect  horse 
woman  ;  so  the  colonel  mounted  her  upon  a  favorite 
but  fiery  horse  of  his  own,  and  her  orderly  found  one 
somewhere  in  the  camp.  I  should  have  been  grateful 
for  a  humbler  steed ;  but  my  saddle  had  been  unfor 
tunately  left  by  mistake  at  Constantinople,  and  no 
other  was  to  be  got.  So  Colonel  Macmurdo  was  good 
enough  to  lend  me  an  ambulance,  drawn  by  four  stout 
mules,  for  myself  and  the  rest  of  our  party. 

Off  we  started  at  a  brisk  pace  through  the  narrow 
street  of  Balaklava,  if  street  could  be  called  merely  a 
few  old  white-washed  Russian  houses,  scattered  here 
arid  there  among  the  hundreds  of  long  wooden  huts 
and  store-houses  of  our  army.  We  could  but  wonder 
(324) 


VISIT   TO   THE   CEIMEA.  325 

at  the  fine  road  which,  after  crossing  the  railway,  we 
soon  came  to — the  perfect  order  in  which  every  thing 
seemed  to  be,  the  prodigious  commissariat  depots, 
the  fine  teams  of  mules  coming  down  from  the  front, 
laden  with  all  sorts  of  stores  to  be  returned  to  En 
gland  ;  Tartars,  in  their  fur  caps,  driving  quietly  along 
in  rough  little  wooden  carts  ;  and  crowds  of  nonde 
script,  half  Eastern,  half  European-looking  people, 
mixed  up  with  soldiers  and  sailors — English,  French, 
and  Sardinians. 

The  "  hotels"  were  very  curious  too.  All  con 
structed  of  deal,  like  every  other  building,  but  gay ly 
decorated  with"  little  flags,  fluttering  all  round,  after 
the  manner  of  the  Crystal  Palace,  and  bearing  the 
high-sounding  names  of  "  Hotel  de  1'Europe,"  "Hotel 
de  la  Paix,"  painted  in  large  letters  on  their  sides.  A 
passing  glance  showed  the  single  apartment  of  these 
hotels,  neatly  papered  with  the  "  Illustrated  London 
News,"  with  here  and  there  a  few  gayer  scraps  of  art. 
Then  we  came  to  the  different  townlike  encampments 
of  our  army,  scattered  over  the  vast  steppes  and  plains 
of  which  one  has  so  often  read.  Every  moment  some 
thing  ingenious  met  the  eye  by  the  wayside, — nicely 
contrived  and  sheltered  little  gardens, — tub  sentry- 
boxes,  prettily  roofed  with  turf,  a  fir-tree  planted  on 
each  side  by  way  of  ornament, — neat  little  fowls' 
houses,  and  flourishing-looking  cocks  and  hens  sun 
ning  themselves  at  the  doors, — a  goat  tethered  here 
and  there, — a  cosy  turf  dog-kennel,  the  faithful  friend 
in  excellent  condition  dozing  in  the  cleanest  straw. 
In  fact,  it  would  have  taken  us  days  to  see  half  of 
the  great  and  small  things  of  interest  in  this  wonder 
ful  camp. 
28 


326  IN   ANI>   AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

The  white  tents  of  the  French  army  in  the  distance, 
with  a  glimpse  of  the  sea  before  them,  formed  a  beau 
tiful  picture,  in  the  bright  beams  of  the  morning  sun. 
A  more  touching  one,  was  the  wayside  cemetery  of 
the  33d  Regiment,  in  which  monuments  were  being 
erected  to  the  memory  of  those  buried  there.  The 
graves  were  very  thick,  and  the  rows  of  white  stone, 
inscribed  with  many  a  gallant  name,  stood  out  in  sad 
array  against  the  clear  blue  sky.  Soldiers  were  busy 
laying  turf  around  them,  planting  arbor-vitse  and  ju 
niper  trees,  and  placing  shot  and  shell  at  the  head  and 
foot  of  each.  The  little  paths  were  also  bordered  with 
fresh  green  turf;  and  it  seems  to  have  been  a  labor 
of  love  to  leave  these  graves  as  fair  as  possible. 

The  whole  was  surrounded  by  a  strong  wall  of  turf 
and  stone.  Far  away  in  the  distance,  on  a  vast  slope 
of  land,  lay  the  Zouave  burial-place, — merely  frag 
ments  of  rock  and  stone  thrown  down,  with  here  and 
there  a  rough  wooden  cross, — looking  so  bare  and 
desolate,  compared  to  our  much-cared-for  one.  How 
sad  it  was,  to  see  the  thousands  left  far  behind  in  these 
dreary  plains. 

Further  on  is  the  ravine  called  "  The  Valley  of  the 
Shadow  of  Death,"  where  our  poor  soldiers  were  shot 
off  the  rugged  cliffs  on  each  side,  by  hundreds,  when 
fighting  their  way  on  to  Sebastopol.  There  we  met 
a  large  party  of  Eussian  officers,  driving  handsome 
droshkeys,  with  four  horses  abreast.  They  bowed  to 
us  with  the  greatest  politeness,  and  each  party  re 
garded  the  other  with  interest.  We  stopped  for  some 
time  at  the  foot  of  the  ravine,  and  collected  as  relics 
a  few  pieces  of  the  vast  quantities  of  shot  und  shell 
scattered  about.  The  ground  was  torn  up  in  every 


VISIT   TO   THE   CRIMEA.  327 

direction,  the  banks  of  the  little  mountain  stream 
broken  down  here  and  there,  and  its  clear  waters 
bubbling  over  more  shot  and  fragments  of  shell  than 
pebbles.  A  ruined  farm-house  and  vineyard  lay  in  the 
hollow  ;  we  crossed  over  to  look  at  the  crumbling 
foundations,  and  gathered  a  few  sprigs  of  a  poor  rose- 
tree,  and  some  pretty  bunches  of  apple-blossom  which 
had  sprung  from  torn  and  broken  branches,  yet  mark 
ing  "where  once  the  garden  smiled." 

A  little  further  on  we  caught  sight  of  the  sea.  Its 
blue  waters,  glittering  in  the  sunshine,  interlaced,  as 
it  were,  vast  piles  of  white  stone  ruins,  rising  abruptly 
out  of  them.  And  this  was  once  the  fair  yet  dreadful 
Sebastopol  1  We  looked  long  with  wonder  at  its  utter 
destruction.  Walking  up  the  hill,  we  met  a  party  of 
"  Sisters  of  Charity,"  quietly  looking  about,  and  point 
ing  out  to  each  other  the  ruined  garden  of  the  slope 
beneath.  It  was  indeed  a  sad  sight ;  noble  poplar- 
trees  shattered  in  the  middle  of  their  lofty  trunks, 
their  tops  hanging  down,  and  broken  branches  sway 
ing  drearily  in  the  wind ;  masses  of  gravel  and  earth 
hurled  upon  what  were  once,  perhaps,  cheerful  gravel 
paths  for  the  townspeople  to  stroll  about  on;  fine 
shrubs  torn  up  and  dying ;  turf  plowed  up,  scorched, 
and  blackened.  Euin  on  the  most  gigantic  scale, 
everywhere!  And  the  remembrance  of  the  grief, 
and  horror,  and  suffering  which  the  struggle  had  cost 
to  thousands  of  human  beings,  made  an  acute  impres 
sion  of  pain  on  my  mind  which  I  shall  never  forget. 
The  fine  barracks,  which  we  next  came  to,  were  pow 
dered  almost  to  dust ;  but  as  to  the  magnificent  docks, 
blown  to  pieces,  the  huge  blocks  of  beautiful  pink 
granite  with  which  they  were  entirely  lined,  toppling 


328         IN  AND  AROUND  STAMBOUL. 

one  over  the  other,  as  if  they,  and  the  great  oaken 
gates,  had  been  dashed  and  tossed  up  together  by  an 
earthquake  or  some  hideous  convulsion  of  nature, — 
even  remembering  what  war  is,  it  was  difficult  to  be 
lieve  this  to  be  the  work  of  man. 

Then  we  went  by  masses  of  ruined  store-houses  to 
ward  the  Malakoff,  looking  frowning  and  formidable 
still,  though  conquered.  We  toiled  up  with  difficulty 
in  a  burning  sun,  our  feet  sinking  deep  in  the  loose 
earth  and  sand  at  every  step.  You  may  well  imagine 
the  almost  breathless  interest  with  which  we  looked  at 
every  thing  here ;  at  all  the  signs  of  the  deadly  and 
terrific  struggle  which  had  so  lately  taken  place.  It 
seemed  almost  startling  not  to  hear  the  cries  and  the 
din  of  war,  which  we  had  so  often  heard  described. 
Torn  and  empty  cartridge-boxes  lay  thick  on  the 
ground — shot  and  shell,  as  hail  after  a  storm, — here  a 
torn  shoulder-knot,  there  a  broken  scabbard.  We 
crept  beneath  eight  or  nine  feet  of  sand  and  earth, 
supported  by  enormous  rafters,  into  one  of  the  cavi 
ties  where  the  Eussian  gunners  lived  during  the  siege. 
One  of  the  poor  fellows'  rope  shoes  lay  near  the  en 
trance  ;  and  I  carried  off'  a  heavy  iron  hammer  and  a 
small  crow-bar,  to  take  to  England. 

Marvelous  defenses  these  were ;  their  foundations 
formed  of  hundreds  of  baskets,  filled  with  sand,  which 
even  women  and  children  toiled  night  and  day  to 
bring  up.  It  was  sunset  when  we  gained  the  summit, 
and  the  tower  of  the  Malakoff;  and  oh,  what  a  mag 
nificent  spectacle  it  was,  to  look  upon  the  distant  range 
of  mountains,  the  ruined  city,  and  the  sunken  ships, — 
on  the  Mamelon,  the  Kedan,  the  Garden  Battery, — all 
the  grand  plan  of  the  attack  and  defense,  bathed  in 


VISIT   TO   THE    CRIMEA.  329 

the  glorious  purple  and  violet  light  of  the  sun's  part 
ing  rays !  The  blue  sea  glittered  to  our  right,  and  the 
tall  masts  of  many  a  stately  ship  at  Kamiesch  rose 
clear  in  the  distance. 

It  was  time,  but  so  difficult,  for  us  to  depart ;  for 
we  felt  chained  to  the  place,  as  if  to  stamp  every  thing, 
and  forever,  on  our  minds.  Even  now  I  seem  to  see 
it  all  before  me,  and  to  hear  plainly  the  air  of  a  little 
Norman  song  which  one  of  the  few  French  soldiers 
left  in  the  tower  was  singing,  as  he  roasted  his  coffee 
in  a  huge  fragment  of  shell.  Nature  seemed  to  re 
member  that  it  was  spring-time,  even  in  this  scene  of 
desolation,  for  a  nightingale  was  singing  in-  the  dis 
tance,  and  a  few  wild  flowers  springing  up  in  compan 
ionship  with  some  bright  tufts  of  turf  beyond  the 
line  of  earthworks.  A  starling  sat  whistling  on  a 
piece  of  broken  wall  to  the  left,  and  frogs  were  croak 
ing  contentedly  in  a  grass-grown  pool,  probably  once 
belonging  to  the  poor  farm-house  of  which  only  those 
few  scorched  bricks  remained. 

When  we  reached  the  Kedan,  it  was  still  the  same 
sunset  picture — grand  beyond  expression — of  the  fear 
ful  struggle ;  but  there  we  saw  the  sun  sink  beneath 
the  waves,  bathing  the  whole  scene  and  every  object, 
from  the  broken  cannon  to  the  little  purple  Iris  flow 
ers  springing  up  on  the  trampled  earth  and  amidst 
shot  and  shell,  in  the  same  unclouded  blaze  of  golden 
light.  Then,  in  the  profound  silence,  when  the  gray 
twilight  came  falling  sadly  over  all,  it  seemed  to  us 
that  the  splendor  which  had  entranced  us  was  like  the 
glory  our  brave  men  had  gained,  and  the  darkness, 
like  the  pain  and  sorrow  for  their  loss.  We  paced 
the  fearful  path  up  which  our  soldiers  trod,  and  gath- 
28* 


330  IN   AND  AROUND  STAMBOUL. 

ered,  from  around  the  huge  holes  made  in  it  by  burst 
ing  shells,  many  of  the  same  wild  Irises  which  we  had 
noticed  by  the  Mamelon;  their  lovely  violet  color, 
mixed  with  a  brilliant  yellow,  gleaming  like  jewels 
among  the  stones,  and  looking  strangely  beautiful 
amidst  those  signs  of  war.  These  are  carefully  dried 
in  my  book,  and  prized  beyond  every  thing  I  possess, 
as  memorials  of  that  sunset.  Passing  over  the  vast 
camp  in  profound  darkness,  excepting  the  light  af 
forded  by  the  large,  bright  stars,  which  gleamed  sud 
denly  forth, — encampment  after  encampment, — each 
marked  out  by  its  numerous  twinkling  lights  stretch 
ing  far  and  wide  over  the  vast  hills  and  plains  and 
valleys,  was  another  memorable  sight  to  us.  Every 
thing  was  profoundly  tranquil,  only  now  and  then  we 
passed  a  soldier  wrapped  in  his  long  cloak,  and  re 
turning  to  quarters.  It  was  bitterly  cold,  and  we 
were  glad  to  hear  the  challenge  of  the  sentinel,  on 
arriving  at  last  at  Balaklava,  and  still  more  so,  to  be 
welcomed  back  by  our  kind  host,  who  had  begun  to 
think  some  accident  must  have  happened  to  us. 

But  I  must  write  no  more  of  our  delightful  trip,  for 
my  pen  lingers  with  so  much  pleasure  on  the  recital 
of  many  happy  days,  that  it  would  willingly  write 
much  more  than  I  fear  you  would  care  to  read.  How 
ever,  I  must  tell  you,  my  dear  Mrs.  Austin,  you  who 
love  flowers  so  much,  that  we  passed  a  whole  day  bota 
nizing  in  Leander  Bay,  among  the  rocks,  for  beautiful 
orchidaceous  plants,  and  in  the  green  valleys  and 
ruined  orchards  and  mountain  slopes  about,  found  an 
endless  variety.  We  took  our  luncheon  on  the  steep 
sides  of  a  ravine,  filling  our  cup  from  the  mountain- 
stream,  leaping  its  way  down  to  the  wide  sea  be- 


VISIT   TO   THE   CRIMEA.  331 

neath,  watching  the  many-colored  lizards  playing 
about  in  the  sun,  listening  to  distant  bugles,  and  talk 
ing  quietly  of  pleasant  things  long  to  be  remembered. 
The  day  after  that,  our  whole  party  rode  to  Inkerman, 
but,  to  my  great  regret,  I  could  not  accompany  them, 
having  no  saddle.  So  I  walked  about  Balaklava, 
seeing  the  admirable  hospital  arrangements,  and  other 
things  of  interest ;  and  altogether  was  consoled  for 
not  going,  by  finding  Mr.  Mansfield  and  Colonel  Camp 
bell  at  Colonel  Hardinge's  on  my  return,  having  a 
long  chat  about  Weybridge,  and  afterward  receiving 
a  visit  from  my  husband's  old  friend  Major  Loundes, 
who,  as  well  as  other  friends,  had  not  been  able  to  find 
us  out  before,  in  consequence  of  our  ship  being  out 
side  the  harbor. 

Admiral  Freemantle  dined  with  Colonel  Hardinge 
in  the  evening,  and  was  much  amused  at  having  been 
called  a  cruel  potentate  by  us  both,  in  our  difficulties, 
and  with  the  inspection  of  our  collection  of  relics 
from  Sebastopol. 

Another  pleasant  day  at  Baidar  was  our  last.  We 
passed  through  the  beautiful  Sardinian  camp,  famed 
for  order,  ingenuity,  and  music,  and  planted  with 
pretty  clumps  and  avenues  of  fir-trees,  to  the  camp  of 
the  Highlanders  on  the  heights  of  Kamara,  and  then 
walked  through  the  valley  beyond,  gathering  speci 
mens  of  wild  flowers  for  our  collection.  The  thorn, 
called  here  "  Christ's  thorn,"  was  in  blossom ;  linnets 
were  singing,  and  bugles  ringing  on  the  hills ;  every 
sound  so  sweet  and  cheerful,  and  we,  so  thoroughly 
enjoying  a  ramble  through  this  fine  scenery,  that  the 
whole  story  of  the  war  seemed  like  a  dreadful  dream, 
put  by  on  a  bright  morning. 


332  IN   AND   AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

How  I  wish  you  could  have  seen  the  fine  Woron- 
zoff  road,  along  which  our  four  sleek  mules,  with 
their  soldier  drivers,  stepped  out  so  finely  after  the 
party  on  horseback.  It  is  quite  a  mountain  road, 
with  precipitous  fir-clad  hills  above,  and  valleys  of 
oak,  and  woods,  and  rocky  streams,  and  green  mea 
dows  below.  Spring  was  just  budding  in  the  valley 
of  Allucca;  soldiers  strolling  about  in  small  parties 
here  and  there  in  the  sunshine  ;  a  few  Tartar  peasants 
jogging  along  in  their  wooden  carts,  all  quietly  en 
joying  the  greenwood.  At  Baidar  we  stopped  to 
dine ;  and  by  the  time  Colonel  Hardinge's  soldier- 
cook  and  Tartar  servants  had  spread  the  feast  under  a 
noble  oak-tree,  the  rest  of  our  party  came  galloping 
back  from  the  Phorus  Pass — one  of  the  most  magni 
ficent  sea  and  mountain  views,  they  said,  in  the  world- 
However,  I  had  had  my  stroll  about  the  beautiful 
slopes  of  the  valley,  and  could  regret  nothing. 

Many  a  day,  we  said,  even  then,  we  shall  talk  over 
that  delightful  party  assembled  under  the  old  tree  at 
Baidar.  Every  thing  was  so  different  from  the  worn- 
out  amusements  of  ordinary  life — all  that  we  had  seen 
so  full  of  interest — the  party  so  well  chosen  for  pleas 
ant  conversation  and  sparkling  good-humor.  Is  it  not 
well  to  have  a  few  days  in  one's  life  like  this  ? 

I  think  I  see  now  the  party  of  riders  gallantly 
mounted,  and  galloping  far  before  my  jingling  mule- 
team,  on  our  return  home,  in  another  of  the  glorious 
sunsets  of  the  Crimea,  which  light  up  even  its  vast 
plains  and  huge  and  dreary  cliffs  into  perfect  bril 
liancy.  Now  and  then  each  party  stopped  to  admire 
any  particularly  fine  point  together,  and  then  merrily 
sped  on  again,  across  the  camp,  to  Balaklava,  But  for 
the  last  evening!  The  next  morning  we  said  adieu 


VISIT  TO   THE   CRIMEA.  333 

to  our  kind  and  courteous  host,  and  to  the  good  old 
house  which  had  been  to  us  the  head-quarters  of  so 
many  golden  days  in  our  memory,  and  to  the  many 
who  had  shown  us  every  possible  kindness  and  atten 
tion.  Mr.  Arthur  Walker  gave  me  a  little  book,  con 
taining  dried  specimens  of  flowers  from  each  battle 
field,  and  from  every  place  of  interest  in  the  Crimea, 
including  a  beautiful  white  Immortelle,  which,  curi 
ously  enough,  he  found  growing  wild  on  the  grave 
of  poor  General  Cathcart.  Mrs.  Brett  had  a  square 
wooden  box  of  flowers  in  full  blossom,  which  she  was 
taking  down  to  cheer  her  drawing-room  at  Pera,  and 
which  we  called  her  Crimean  garden :  the  Iris  roots 
of  the  good  "  Sisters"  were  there,  snowdrops  from 
the  Heights  of  Balaklava,  and  many  bright  things 
from  Baidar  and  Leander  Bay. 

On  reaching  our  ship,  we  found  the  lower  deck 
covered  with  a  savage  and  motley  crew.  Never  had 
I  conceived  any  creatures  so  fearful  in  the  shape  of 
humanity.  They  were  the  harpies  of  the  camp  and 
the  battle-fields,  returning  to  Constantinople,  now  that 
the  war  was  ended.  I  often  used  to  watch  them, 
and  think  of  the  frightful  things  they  had  done. 
Many  of  them  had  the  richest  cushions  and  carpets 
spread  upon  the  deck,  and  sat  huddled  up  together, 
frequently  opening  their  dirty  bundles,  and  taking  out 
snuff-boxes,  pistols,  and  things  of  all  kinds  to  polish, 
by  way  of  passing  the  time.  One  mere  boy  among 
them  had  no  less  than  three  watches  and  chains. 
Almost  all  had  two  or  three  signet  and  other  rings 
on  their  fingers;  one  dreadful-looking  old  woman 
many  Orders,  especially  two  of  the  Kussian  Order  01 
St.  George,  which  she  wanted  us  to  buy.  Several  of 
the  men  had  on  handsome  but  stained  and  dirty 


334  IN   AND  AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

boots,  spurs,  and  other  things  evidently  once  belong 
ing  to  English  officers,  which  it  made  one  shudder  to 
look  upon.  We  longed  to  get  to  the  end  of  our 
voyage ;  but  it  seemed  that  we  were  doomed  to  mis 
haps  by  sea,  for  a  slight  accident  happened  to  the 
machinery  one  night,  which  detained  us,  with  fires 
out  and  steam  let  off,  for  some  hours,  beating  about 
on  the  rough  waves.  Then  the  captain  missed  the 
mouth  of  the  Bosphorus,  and  we  were  a  whole  day 
steaming  down  the  wild  coast  of  Anatolia,  where  we 
saw  the  wrecks  of  four  small  vessels,  which  had  been 
driven  on  shore — no  cheerful  sight,  with  a  strong 
wind  blowing,  the  ship's  officers  quite  out  of  their 
reckoning,  and  no  water  on  board ;  for  they  had 
shipped  bad  and  brackish  water  at  Balaklava,  which 
even  the  savage  party  on  deck  could  not  drink,  and 
we  were  almost  famishing  with  thirst,  only  wetting 
our  lips  now  and  then  with  a  little  claret.  I  never 
thought  to  have  been  so  glad  to  see  again  the  castles 
at  the  mouth  of  the  Bosphorus,  as  when  we  at  last 
came  to  it,  and  the  challenging  gun  was  fired,  and 
we  anchored  for  the  night  in  the  well-known  place. 

Nothing  could  be  more  delightful,  after  the  dreary 
shores  and  dull  waves  of  the  Black  Sea;  nothing  more 
striking  and  surprising  than  the  change,  in  half 
an  hour,  to  the  softest  air,  the  scent  of  a  thousand 
flowers,  the  ceaseless  trill  of  the  nightingale,  and  ths 
fantastic  streaks  of  phosphoric  light  on  the  musical 
ripples  of  the  water.  It  told  at  once  the  whole  story 
of  the  languor  and  dreaminess  of  Eastern  life.  One 
would  think  that  Tennyson  must  have  witnessed  a 
night  like  this,  to  have  written  his  "  Lotus-Eaters," 
for  it  was  like  many  pages  of  Eastern  poetry,  and 
read  and  understood  at  a  glance. 


LETTEE   XL. 

VISIT    TO    A    TURKISH    HAREM THE    GARDEN THE    CHILDREN SCENES 

IN    THE    GARDEN. 

Orta-kioy,  May  20th,  1856. 

My  dear  Mother : 

Yesterday  morning,  while  walking  in  the  gar 
den,  the  Armenian  girls  came  to  ask  me  to  pay  a  visit, 
with  them,  to  the  Turkish  ladies  in  the  yellow  house 
below.  I  was  very  glad  to  go,  and  off  we  started ;  the 
good  old  lady,  who  had  put  on  her  sabled  jacket  for 
the  occasion,  leading  me  by  the  hand,  after  the  simple 
and  kindly  fashion  of  the  country.  Rich  and  fashion 
able  Armenians  of  the  present  day  attempt  the  French 
style  of  dress ;  those  of  the  old  school  still  retain  the 
vail  and  feridjee ;  my  friends  adopt  a  middle  course, 
and  wear  only  a  handkerchief  bound  round  their  plaits 
of  hair  in  the  street — neither  the  French  bonnet  nor 
the  Eastern  vail.  It  was  lovely  weather  yesterday, 
with  a  light  and  refreshing  north  breeze,  bringing 
down  many  white-sailed  vessels ;  caiques  rapidly 
threading  their  way  over  the  swift  and  silver  stream ; 
sea-birds  flitting  about ;  while  the  many-shaded  green 
hills  above  looked  more  bright  and  varied  than  usual. 
Transports  slowly  steaming  down  from  the  Crimea, 
the  decks  covered  with  hardy,  weather-beaten  troops, 
tell  so  cheerfully  that  the  war  is  over.  The  merry 
notes  of  a  bugle,  or  the  sound  of  a  hearty  cheer,  fre 
quently  reach  the  shore  these  pleasant  spring  morn- 

(335) 


336  IN  AND  AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

ings,  and  make  one  rejoice  for  the  brave  fellows  re 
turning  home. 

"We  soon  reached  the  garden-door  of  the  harem,  and 
found  ourselves  in  a  pretty  but  formal  garden — for 
mal,  perhaps,  on  account  of  the  shade  which  long  trel- 
lised  paths,  bordered  with  tall  orange  and  lemon-trees, 
afford  in  the  sultry  heat  of  summer.  There  was  a 
beautiful  yew-tree  in  the  very  heart  of  the  garden,  and 
underneath,  as  far  as  its  rich  dark  branches  extended, 
a  pretty  pavement  of  pebbles  had  been  laid,  in  small 
black  and  white  stones.  The  design  was  charming, 
and  something  like  the  disc  of  a  huge  sunflower. 
Cushions  were  arranged  all  round,  and  pretty  little 
lamps  were  suspended  from  the  branches;  I  suppose, 
to  light  up  for  a  supper  or  concert  of  music,  and  the 
usual  night-feasting  of  Eamazan.  None  of  the  ladies 
were  there  now ;  but  cross-legged,  under  a  tree  close 
by,  sat  a  hideous  negress,  with  a  fair,  sickly-looking 
child  in  her  arms,  which  she  was  trying  to  rock  to 
sleep.  She  seemed  savagely  fond  of  it,  and  would 
hardly  permit  us  to  look  at  the  poor  little  thing,  but 
roughly  said  to  Miss  Barker  that  it  was  ill,  and  afraid 
of  strangers.  No  doubt  the  faithful  nurse  feared  the 
"  evil  eye ;"  and  if  the  poor  baby  had  been  worse  that 
night,  she  would  have  laid  it  to  our  charge.  She  did 
not  offer  to  guide  us  to  the  house ;  but,  calling  out  in 
a  harsh,  grating  voice,  some  other  slaves  appeared,  and 
leading  the  way  up  a  wooden  flight  of  steps,  covered 
with  luxuriant  creepers,  ushered  us  into  a  large  cool 
hall,  floored  with  the  usual  matting.  We  were  then 
conducted  through  several  rooms,  to  a  shady  one,  with 
a  painted  ceiling  and  latticed  window,  looking  on  to 
the  Bosphorus.  Besides  the  divan,  there  was  nothing 


VISIT  TO   A  TURKISH   HAREM.  337 

in  this  apartment  but  a  kind  of  cabinet,  filled  with 
some  old  china,  and  a  table,  upon  which  two  gaudy 
clocks,  several  flower-vases,  and  other  ornaments,  were 
heaped  up,  just  as  if  intended  for  inspection  and  sale 
— in  fact,  as  you  would  see  them  at  a  broker's  shop. 
As  we  were  noting  these  things,  and  the  comfortless 
look  of  the  room,  the  door  opened  quickly,  and  a 
young  Turkish  lady,  dressed  in  a  light-colored  muslin 
jacket  and  trousers,  ran  up  to  the  Armenian  ladies, 
kissed  them  rather  boisterously,  laughed  like  a  school 
girl,  with  a  stray  shy  look  at  us,  and  seated  herself  on 
the  divan.  She  laughed  again  in  my  face  when  I  was 
introduced  to  her,  and  said  something,  which,  on  in 
quiry,  I  found  was,  that  she  thought  a  bonnet  must  be 
a  very  uncomfortable  thing.  Notwithstanding  this  at 
tack  on  our  national  costume,  I  offered  my  hand  in  a 
friendly  way,  which  she  took  with  another  giggle,  and 
then  clapped  her  hands  for  the  eternal  sweetmeats  and 
coffee,  which  she  afterward  declared  she  had  almost 
forgotten  to  call  for,  it  being  Eamazan.  She  was  not 
at  all  handsome :  her  eyes  were  rather  fine,  but  the 
face  fat,  heavy,  and  uninteresting,  although  certainly 
good-tempered  looking.  She  had  several  slaves  about 
her,  but  none  of  them  at  all  pretty,  except  one  charm 
ing  little  girl  of  eight,  beautiful  as  an  angel,  the  child 
of  a  former  wife  who  was  dead,  and  evidently  the  pet 
of  the  harem. 

The  lady  of  whom  I  am  speaking  is  wife  of  the  Ef- 
fendi  who  drank  tea  with  us  the  other  evening.  The 
brother's  wife  seems  to  be  the  chief,  and  she  sent  a 
message  to  me,  begging  to  be  excused,  as  she  was 
unwell,  and  about  to  go  to  the  bath.  Of  course  we 
begged  that  she  would  not  disturb  herself.  The 
29 


338  IN   AND   ABOUND   STAMBOUL. 

younger  lady  offered  to  show  us  the  rest  of  the  ha 
rem;  and  she  seemed  as  much  amused  as  a  child, 
leading  us  from  one  latticed  room  to  another,  and 
laughing  all  the  while.  An  old  lady  now  joined  us, 
in  such  an  odd  flannel  jacket  and  trousers,  that,  look 
ing  at  her  vast  ill-concealed  dimensions,  it  was  diffi 
cult  to  preserve  a  grave  countenance.  I  suppose  she 
was  some  ancient  relative,  and  could  not  help  thinking 
very  favorably,  at  the  time,  of  the  flowing  gray  or 
black  silks,  and  the  snow-white  caps  of  our  grand 
mothers.  Each  lady  had  her  separate  suite  of  apart 
ments,  and  each  her  separate  slaves.  One  young 
lady,  also  a  relative  of  the  Effendi's,  we  were  told, 
was  anxious  to  show  us  hers,  and  they  all  pressed 
forward,  with  the  utmost  kindness,  to  display  any 
thing  which  they  thought  might  please  us,  just  like 
children  when  they  have  other  children  to  amuse. 
Our  moon-faced  friend,  (a  great  compliment,  by-the- 
by,  to  her  face  in  Turkey),  produced  with  great  glee 
a  musical-box,  and  set  it  playing.  The  old  lady,  see 
ing  that  we  liked  it,  immediately  touched  the  spring 
of  a  clock,  and  set  it  off  to  another  merry  tune ;  a 
third  lady,  not  to  be  outdone  in  hospitality,  ran  off 
for  hers ;  and  the  three,  playing  vigorously  different 
tunes  at  the  same  time,  formed,  as  you  may  suppose, 
an  exhibition  extremely  pleasant  and  novel,  and  we 
laughed  outright,  which  convinced  the  ladies  how 
much  we  were  entertained.  We  escaped  from  this  in 
fliction  at  last,  by  the  chief  wife  of  the  elder  brother 
sending  to  say  that,  if  we  liked  to  see  her  apart 
ments,  we  were  quite  welcome.  At  first  we  hardly 
liked  to  go,  but  our  merry  hostess  pressed  us  to  do 
so,  adding :  "  It  will  do  her  good  to  see  you ;  she  is 


VISIT  TO   A  TURKISH  HAREM.  339 

dull  about  her  sick  child,  whom  you  saw  in  the 
garden."  So  we  went.  These  rooms  were  prettiest 
of  all,  and  looking  on  to  the  garden.  They  were 
hung  with  pale  blue  silk,  instead  of  flowered  chintz, 
like  the  others;  for  the  lady  inhabitant  had  been 
a  present  from  the  Sultan,  and  etiquette  demands 
that  her  apartments  be  better  furnished  and  adorned 
than  all  the  rest.  Her  bedroom  was  charmingly 
fitted  up :  a  deep  alcove  covered  with  rich  Persian 
carpets,  filled  with  luxurious  cushions  and  embroid 
ered  coverlets,  taking  up  one  side  of  it.  On  the 
other  side  was  a  light  green  and  gold  bedstead,  cov 
ered  with  gauze  curtains.  The  toilette-table  was 
extremely  pretty,  dressed  with  muslin  and  lace,  after 
our  fashion;  a  Persian  looking-glass,  shaped  like  a 
sunflower,  in  mother-of-pearl,  hanging  above  it.  The 
ceiling  was  painted  with  a  trellis-work  of  birds, 
leaves,  and  flowers.  Three  steps  led  into  the  cool  and 
shady  garden,  and  to  the  wide-spreading  household 
tree  I  told  you  of.  Opposite  the  alcove  were  doors ; 
one  led  into  a  sitting-room,  hung  with  the  same 
blue  silk,  and  furnished  with  richly-cushioned  divans ; 
the  other  opened  into  a  beautiful  white-marble  bath, 
the  air  still  heavy  with  steam  and  perfume.  The 
poor  lady  had  just  taken  her  bath.  Oh!  how  pale 
and  sickly  she  looked,  and  how  very  pretty  she 
was — so  touchingly  gentle  and  graceful  in  her  man 
ners.  I  was  much  .charmed.  She  talked  some  time 
to  us  in  her  pretty  room,  but  merely  asking  a  few 
questions,  as  to  how  long  I  had  been  here,  and  how 
I  liked  the  country.  Presently  the  black  nurse  came 
in  with  the  little  child.  It  was  still  moaning  in  her 
arms ;  and  as  the  poor  mother  hung  over  it,  it  was 


840  IN   AND   AKOUXD   STAMBOUL. 

difficult  to  say  which  looked  the  fastest  fading 
away.  My  old  Armenian  friend  took  it  kindly  in 
her  arms,  and,  speaking  Turkish,  talked  over  its 
ailments,  while  I  walked  with  the  other  ladies  to  the 
end  of  the  apartment :  then,  seeing  their  conversa 
tion  over,  I  returned  to  say  adieu.  A  sweeter  or  a 
sadder  face  I  never  saw :  it  quite  haunted  me.  Our 
merry  friend  did  not  show  much  sympathy  for  the 
invalid,  and  insisted  upon  our  returning  to  her  apart 
ments,  to  show  me  her  clothes  and  jewels.  Eobe 
after  robe,  carefully  pinned  up  in  muslin,  was  pro 
duced,  of  every  color  and  shade,  for  all  the  ladies 
ran  to  fetch  their  whole  stock  of  finery.  Dresses 
of  light  green  edged  with  gold,  and  violet  trimmed 
with  silver,  flowered  dresses,  embroidered  dresses, 
shawls,  scarfs,  and  jackets,  were  produced  in  endless 
array,  and  with  an  immense  amount  of  chattering. 
Then  I  must  be  dressed  up  in  them,  they  said, 
laughing  with  delight  as  the  masquerade  progressed. 
You  would  certainly  never  have  known  rne  in  the 
gorgeousness  of  Eastern  array,  which,  however,  they 
pronounced  became  me  very  well.  Two  large  sprays 
of  brilliants,  set  as  a  kind  of  convolvulus,  with 
turquoise  centres,  were  fastened  in  each  side  of  my 
hair. 

All  on  a  sudden,  the  beautiful  little  child  I  told 
you  of,  burst  into  a  violent  passion  of  tears,  and  I 
was  concerned  to  know  what  ailed  her.  '*  She  weeps 
because  she  does  not  also  possess  jewels  and  rich 
clothes,"  said  the  black  nurse,  soothing  her.  "Never 
mind,"  said  my  merry,  round-faced  friend,  who  was 
trying  on  a  rose-colored  feridjee  with  great  satisfac- 


VISIT  TO   A   TUEKISH   HAREM.  341 

tion ;  tl  one  day  or  another  you  will  marry,  and  then 
you  will  have  plenty." 

While  we  were  thus  playing  children,  the  poor  sick 
lady  entered  with  her  nurse  and  baby,  sitting  on  the 
divan  at  the  further  end  of  the  room,  and  languidly 
looking  on.  Never  have  I  seen  any  one  look  so  ut 
terly  hopeless  and  miserable  as  she  did,  turning  every 
now  and  then  to  her  evidently  dying  child.  I  said  to 
the  brother's  wife  how  much  I  pitied  her  anxiety 
about  the  poor  little  thing.  Her  reply  was  translated : 
"  Oh,  she  did  not  think  the  child  was  so  very  bad ; 
it  only  had  an  abscess  behind  the  ear,  which  the 
holy  Imaum  at  the  mosque  was  going  to  lance.  The 
fact  was,"  (and  here  she  giggled  heartily  again,)  "  that 
the  mother  was  suffering  more  from  jealousy  than 
from  any  thing  else."  The  idea  seemed  too  ridiculous 
to  her  sister-in-law.  u  Her  husband  had  just  taken 
a  new  wife,  and  they  had  gone  to  Stamboul  that  morn 
ing.  He  used  to  be  very  fond  of  those  two,"  pointing 
to  the  faded  mother  and  child  ;  "  but  now,  of  course, 
he  is  pleased  with  Ayesha,  who  is  young,  pretty,  and 
sprightly.  However,  she  will  soon  get  used  to  it ; 
she  was  stupidly  fond  of  him,  and  has  a  jealous  tem 
per."  I  was  glad  to  be  able  to  say  to  Miss  Barker : 
"  Let  us  go,"  without  being  understood. 

The  very  atmosphere  of  the  harem  seemed  to  stifle 
me;  and  I  could  hardly  help  throwing  the  jewels  and 
finery  away  from  me  with  disgust.  What  Mrs.  Long- 
worth  told  me  some  time  ago  is  quite  right.  "  If  a 
Turkish  woman  possesses  an  atom  of  refinement,  one 
particle  of  affection  for  either  husband  or  children,  one 
thought  of  the  future,  she  must  be  wretched!  Her 
only  chance  of  contentment  is,  in  being  degraded  to  a 
29* 


342  IN    AND    AROUND    STAMBOUL. 

mere  animal  state,  eating,  drinking,  and  basking  in 
the  sun." 

We  rose  to  go ;  the  ladies  crowding  round,  and  press 
ing  us  not  to  leave  so  soon.  Poor  things !  they  are  so 
greedy  after  a  little  amusement  in  their  utter  idleness. 
I  felt  more  angry  and  impatient  than  you  can  well  con 
ceive,  and  kept  exclaiming  to  Miss  Barker,  "  Say  we 
must  go ;  let  us  get  away  directly ;  if  we  meet  the  Ef- 
fendi  returning,  I  shall  certainly  be  taking  off  my  slip 
per  and  beating  him  upon  the  face  in  a  most  savage 
manner,  or  breaking  his  chibouque,  or  making  him 
1  eat  dirt'  in  some  dreadful  way  or  other,  to  my  utter 
disgrace  in  Turkey  and  elsewhere."  So,  with  many  civil 
speeches,  they  at  last  consented  to  allow  us  to  depart. 

Going  up  to  the  poor  sorrowful  lady,  I  said  that  I 
hoped  to  hear  a  good  account  of  her.  She  was  soon 
about  to  become  again  a  mother.  She  smiled  sadly, 
and  shook  her  head.  The  Armenian  ladies  kissed  her 
hand,  and  would  have  kissed  the  hem  of  her  garment, 
but  this  she  would  not  allow,  and  turned  again  to  her 
child  as  we  left  the  room.  The  rest  of  the  ladies 
walked  through  the  garden  with  us,  plucking  flowers, 
oranges,  and  lemons  for  every  one,  until  we  were  all 
laden.  WhenVe  came  to  the  hall  belonging  to  the 
garden  of  the  gentlemen's  apartments,  the  rest  would 
have  turned  back ;  but  the  chief  lady,  peeping  out  first 
to  see  if  the  gardener  or  any  other  men  were  there, 
caught  up  the  long  trailing  ends  of  her  dress,  and 
scampered  at  full  speed  along  the  gravel-path  after  us, 
throwing  at  me  a  beautiful  bunch  of  laburnum,  which 
she  pulled  from  a  tree  close  by,  then,  laughing  heartily, 
scampered  as  swiftly  back  again  to  the  harem  garden- 
gate,  and  carefully  closing  the  door  we  entered  the 
narrow  streets  of  Orta-kioy. 


LETTEE    XLI. 

FAST   OF   RAMAZAN — TURKISH   NATIONALITY — THE   SHEIK-ZADI — END   OP 

THE    FAST PREPARATIONS ILLUMINATION    OF    THE    MOSQUES KARA- 

GOS,    THE   TURKISH    "  PUNCH" — FIREMEN. 

Constantinople,  May  29th,  1856. 

My  dear  Mr.  Hornby : 

I  greatly  regretted  not  being  well  enough  to  go 
to  Stamboul,  and  see  a  night  of  the  great  Fast  of  Ka- 
mazan.  During  this  Fast  the  poor  Turks  seem  to 
suffer  dreadfully,  touching  no  food  from  sunrise  to 
sunset.  The  other  day,  coming  from  Scutari  with 
Mrs.  Cumberbatch,  our  caiquejees  were  in  an  almost 
fainting  state,  and  could  hardly  make  way  against  the 
stream.  They  kept  looking  at  the  sun ;  and  the  mo 
ment  the  evening  gun  was  fired,  they  seized  a  cucum 
ber,  and  eagerly  bit  off  two  or  three  pieces  of  it.  Of 
course  the  rich  do  not  feel  the  fast  so  much,  if  at  all ; 
they  merely  turn  night  into  day — sleeping  all  day,  and 
feasting  all  night.  Every  mosque  is  illuminated  two 
hours  after  sunset,  and  you  hear  nothing  but  sounds 
of  music  and  feasting  from  every  Turkish  house.  We 
hear  the  Sultan's  band  begin  about  nine  in  the  even 
ing.  The  poor  are  in  a  dreadfully  exhausted  state, 
especially  caiquejees  and  porters.  Poor  fellows !  you 
see  them  turn  their  heads  away  from  the  fountains,  as 
they  pass  by  in  the  burning  sun ;  for  not  even  a  drop 
of  water  must  pass  the  lips  of  a  good  Mussulman  from 
sunrise  to  sunset,  and  the  working-classes  here  are 
wonderfully  good  and  conscientious  in  doing  that 

(343) 


344  IN   AND   AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

which  they  think  right.  The  minarets  were  beauti 
fully  illuminated  last  night,  with  wreaths  and  sprays 
of  lamps.  An  old  Turk  told  us  that  they  ought  to  be 
as  brilliant  every  night  of  Ramazan  and  Bairam,  but 
the  priests  (Imaums)  steal  the  oil !  They  are  allowed 
by  government  four  hundred  "okes"  of  oil  for  each 
mosque,  and  an  "oke"  is  three  pounds  and  a  half  En 
glish  weight. 

Colonel  Ebor  has  written  a  graphic  and  charming 
account  of  the  Eamazan,  which  I  believe  has  appeared 
in  print,  but  which  I  send,  in  case  you  have  not 
seen  it. 

"The  more  the  intercourse  between  the  different  na 
tions  exerts  its  assimilating  influence,  the  more  inter 
esting  become  the  remaining  traces  of  a  distinct 
national  and  social  life.  In  Europe  this  assimilating 
tendency  has  spread  so  far  that  very  little  indeed  re 
mains;  and  railways  and  steamers  efface  more  and 
more  even  the  few  traces  which  have  been  left  hither 
to,  so  that  a  man  will  soon  be  able  to  go  from  one  end 
of  Europe  to  the  other  without  finding  any  difference 
in  the  appearance  of  the  different  countries. 

"  In  Turkey  this  cosmopolitan  tendency  has  not  yet 
succeeded  so  completely.  There  is,  indeed,  a  rage 
in  Stamboul  for  every  thing  which  is  alia  Franca. 
The  picturesque  Oriental  costume  is  more  and  more 
giving  way  to  ugly  straight-collared  coats  and  broad- 
strapped  trousers,  the  best  specimens  of  which  would 
disgrace  even  the  shops  of  the  Temple  at  Paris.  The 
beautiful  ceilings  carved  in  wood  are  disappearing, 
in  favor  of  wretchedly  daubed  flowers  and  trees ; 
the  comfortable  divans  running  all  round  the  walls, 
are  replaced  by  straight-backed,  uneasy  chairs.  But 


FAST   OF   BAMAZAN.  3-A5 

these  innovations  are  scarcely  known  out  of  Stam- 
boul;  and  even  in  the  capital  there  is  a  time  when  a 
kind  of  reaction  takes  place  against  this  tendency,  and 
Oriental  life  seems  to  revive  for  a  time.  This  time 
is  that  of  the  Ramazan,  with  its  days  of  fasts  and 
its  nights  of  feasts.  Then  everybody  returns  to  the 
old  style  of  living;  knives  and  forks,  tables  and 
chairs,  plates  and  napkins  are  discarded,  and  all  eat 
in  the  old  patriarchal  way,  out  of  one  dish,  with 
their  fingers.  There  are  even  people  who  abandon 
the  raki  bottle  during  that  time,  and  go  back  again  to 
the  pure  element.  The  mosques  begin  again  to  exert 
their  attractions ;  and  many  a  man  you  may  see  there, 
bowing  down,  who  during  eleven  months  of  the  year 
is  making  philosophical  comments  about  the  Koran. 

"  This  is,  therefore,  the  most  interesting  time  for  a 
European,  who  can  get,  by  a  stroll  through  the  streets, 
more  insight  into  the  character  of  Mohammedan 
life  than  by  the  study  of  volumes.  Although  the 
external  appearance  of  the  people  has  been  changed, 
from  what  it  was  when  Turkish  dignitaries  rode 
about  in  colossal  turbans  and  richly  embroidered 
kaftans — when  the  only  carriage  seen  was  the  gaudily- 
painted  araba  with  milk-white  oxen — when  swaggering 
Janissaries  and  Spahis  made  themselves  conspicuous 
— and  when  the  old  ruins  through  which  you  now 
walk  were  in  their  prime — enough  still  remains  to 
give  the  whole  picture  that  strange  mysterious  color 
ing  which  we  connect  in  our  minds  with  the  idea  of 
the  East. 

"  The  day  begins  for  the  Moslem,  in  Ramazan,  two 
or  three  hours  before  sunset.  There  are,  indeed, 
toiling  wretches,  such  as  hamals  and  caiquejees,  for 


346  IN   AND   AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

whom  the  day  begins  as  usual,  at  daybreak,  and 
grows  only  so  much  harder  by  the  privations  it  im 
poses  ;  but  most  people  do  not  get  up  before  noon, 
and  bazaars  and  shops  kept  by  Mohammedans  seldom 
open  before  the  afternoon;  even  the  office  hours  at 
the  Porte  do  not  begin  before  that  time. 

"  Two  hours  before  sunset  all  the  town  turns  out 
into  the  streets.  It  is  the  time  for  making  purchases 
of  provisions,  and  for  promenading.  There  is  a  long, 
and  in  most  parts  tolerably  wide  street,  leading  from 
the  place  in  which  the  mosque  of  Sultan  Bajazid 
stands,  to  the  mosque  of  Sultan  Mehmed.  This  is 
the  centre  of  all  life.  Originally  a  market,  flanked 
on  both  sides  with  shops  of  every  kind,  it  has  in 
a  great  measure  lost  its  original  distinction.  The 
shops  have  ceded  their  place  to  a  nearly  uninter 
rupted  series  of  cafes,  and  the  market  is  converted 
into  a  promenade.  This  is  principally  the  case  in  the 
part  of  the  street  called  Sheik-Zadi,  from  the  beautiful 
mosque  along  which  it  leads.  A  double  and  often 
treble  row  of  carriages,  with  dark-eyed  and  thickly- 
vailed  beauties,  occupies  the  centre  of  the  street,  while 
the  raised  arcades  in  front  of  the  shops  are  filled 
with  women  in  gay  feridjees  (cloaks)  and  admiring 
"  swells."  It  is  the  Kotten-row  of  Stamboul,  quite  as 
characteristic,  and  even  more  picturesque,  with  its 
quaint  balconies,  graceful  minarets,  cypress-trees,  and 
the  shady  little  burial-grounds  stuck  among  the  houses, 
all  illuminated  by  a  gorgeous  setting  sun.  This 
movement  in  the  Sheik-Zadi  lasts  till  near  sunset; 
as  the  shadows  grow  longer,  one  carriage  after  the 
other  loses  itself,  the  yashmaks  and  their  wearers  dis 
appear,  and  only  the  smoke-thirsty  people  remain 


FAST   OF   KAMAZAN.  347 

sitting  on  the  little  stools  in  front  of  the  cafes,  look 
ing  every  minute  at  their  watches,  hating  the  sun 
and  preparing  every  thing  for  the  moment  of  the 
signal-gun.  The  water  is  boiling  on  the  brazier, 
ready  for  the  coffee,  the  tumblers  are  filled  with 
lemonade  or  any  other  decoction,  but  the  greatest  care 
is  given  to  the  preparations  for  smoking.  It  is  a 
work  of  love,  and  helps  to  idle  away  the  last  half- 
hour  in  pleasant  anticipation  of  the  coming  pleasures. 
Every  fibre  is  unraveled  and  put  in  with  judgment ; 
steel,  stone,  and  timber,  are  taken  out ;  and  the  most 
impatient  amuse  themselves  with  lighting  the  tinder 
and  putting  it  out  again  half-a-dozen  times. 

"At  length  the  last  rays  of  the  sun  have  disap 
peared,  and  the  gun  in  the  court  of  the  Seraskeriate 
announces  it ;  a  faint  cry  of  satisfaction  rises,  drowned 
nearly  as  soon  as  it  rises  in  a  cloud  of  smoke  or  in  a 
tumbler  of  water.  As  soon  as  their  first  cravings 
are  satisfied,  every  one  hastens  to  the  'iftar,'the  first 
meal  of  the  day.  It  is  the  only  time  when  you  can 
see  the  usual  abstemious  Oriental  gorging  himself. 
Sweets  follow  meat  and  meat  follows  sweets  alternately 
in  endless  succession.  All  the  innumerable  resources 
of  the  Turkish  cuisine,  nearly  superior  in  inventive 
ness  to  the  French,  are  put  into  requisition,  so  that 
thirty  to  forty  dishes  are  no  uncommon  occurrence  at 
a  fashionable  house. 

"  There  is  scarcely  time  to  swallow  all  these  dainties, 
wash  the  hands,  and  smoke  a  pipe,  when  the  sharp 
cry  of  the  Muezzin  calls  the  Faithful  to  night  prayers. 
By  this  time  the  galleries  on  the  mosques  have  been 
tastefully  illuminated  by  lamps  ;  the  rows  of  windows 
under  the  cupola  shine  with  the  lights  of  the  thou- 


348  IN   AND   ABOUND   STAMBOUL. 

sand  lamps  inside.  All  the  cafes,  grocers'  shops,  and 
eating-houses,  all  the  numerous  stands,  with  ices,  lem 
onade,  and  sweetmeats,  and  the  thousands  of  paper 
lanterns  of  the  thousands  of  the  crowd,  with  their 
numberless  lights,  lend  to  the  whole  scene  a  fantastic 
glare  which  surpasses  the  last  and  most  exciting  mo 
ment  of  the  Roman  Carnival. 

"  This  is  the  hour  when  one  ought  to  go  and  see 
the  mosques.  The  simple  grandeur  of  some  of  these 
masterpieces  of  Eastern  architecture  is  only  to  be 
felt,  not  to  be  described.  That  solemn  abstraction 
from  all  surrounding  earthly  objects  which  charac 
terizes  the  prayer  of  the  Moslem,  rises  to  a  kind  of 
stern  enthusiasm,  which  strikes  even  the  most  scepti 
cal  with  awe. 

"  By  the  time  prayer  is  over,  the  scene  outside  has 
even  increased  in  animation.  Everybody  is  visiting 
everybody ;  the  crowd  is  so  dense  that  you  can  scarcely 
pass  through  the  main  thoroughfares ;  all  the  seats 
in  front  of  the  cafes  and  shops  are  occupied,  every 
where  you  hear  chanting,  singing,  and  music.  The 
mosques  have  increased  in  light.  On  a  rope  stretched 
from  one  minaret  to  another,  .figures  formed  of  in 
geniously  hung  lamps,  representing  flowers,  animals, 
birds,  ships,  and  "other  objects,  swing  about  high  in 
the  air.  A  thousand  'Buyouroun,'  ('  Please')  invite 
the  passers-by  to  the  shops,  and  mix  with  the  hum 
of  the  busy  crowd.  And  all  this  host,  without  any 
body  to  direct  its  movements,  is  orderly  and  quiet  ; 
no  pressing  or  jostling,  no  acute  noise  or  excess. 
This  is,  perhaps,  the  most  wonderful  part  of  the 
whole,  and  gives  to  the  scene  an  air  of  mystery, 
which  impresses  you  almost  with  the  belief  that  you 


FEAST   OF    RAMAZAN.  349 

are  witnessing  the  thousand  and  second  of  the  '  Ara 
bian  Nights.' 

"If  you  have  no  acquaintance  to  go  to,  and  if 
you  are  tired  of  the  crowd,  you  may  go  and  see  the 
Kara-goz,  the  Turkish  'Punch.'  He  haunts  mostly 
out-of-the-way  lanes,  and  chooses  invariably  for  his 
exhibition  one  of  the  numerous  gardens  with  which 
the  town  abounds.  You  enter  the  little  door,  and  are 
received,  as  in  exhibitions  all  over  the  world,  by  the 
proprietor,  who  acts  at  the  same  time  as  the  cashier, 
with  the  polite  demand  for  a  few  piastres.  If  you 
have  thus  acquired  the  right  to  enter,  you  must  look 
out  for  a  seat;  and,  according  to  the  confidence  in 
your  generosity  which  your  appearance  inspires,  you 
will  be  accommodated  with  a  wooden  sofa,  a  chair,  or 
stool,  or  you  will  be  banished  among  the  crowd  in 
the  background,  where  you  are  at  liberty  to  squat 
down.  Most  of  the  gardens  where  Kara-goz  exhibits 
are  covered  in  by  trellises,  on  which  the  vines  creep 
along,  letting  their  untrained  branches  hang  down, 
through  which  you  can  see  the  stars.  A  solitary 
lamp,  or  at  most  two,  form  the  illumination,  except 
where  Kara-goz,  the  wag,  appears.  Here  a  dark  cur 
tain  is  drawn  across,  except  in  the  centre,  where  a 
thin  transparent  vail  shows  the  scene. 

"  The  performance  is  acted  by  marionettes  of  wood, 
some  of  them  rather  cleverly  jointed,  so  as  to  enjoy 
the  liberty  of  all  their  members.  Here,  as  in  Italy, 
there  are  stereotype  figures — Kara-goz,  his  friend 
and  rival  in  wit,  Hadji-Vatt,  a  'swell,'  the  woman, 
a  Jew,  an  idiot,  a  Persian,  and  the  police.  The 
subjects  are  most  varied,  but  all  representing  tricks 
played  by  Kara-goz  on  all  the  dramatis  personce,  who 
30 


350  IX   AND   ABOUND   STAMBOUL. 

all  rise  at  last  against  the  wag.  The  most  interest 
ing  part,  for  any  one  who  understands  the  language, 
is  the  dialogue,  especially  between  Hadji- Yatt  and 
Kara-goz,  who  try  to  surpass  each  other  in  the  skir 
mish  of  words.  Some  of  them  are  exceedingly  witty, 
and,  what  is  more,  the  wit  is  fully  appreciated  by  the 
spectators. 

"Scarcely  less  interesting  than  the  performance, 
are  the  faces  of  the  spectators.  The  first  row  are  all 
children,  and  never  did  I  hear  childish  delight  and 
ringing  laughter  so  joyous  and  free.  One  could 
scarcely  imagine  that  those  grave  persons  behind 
had  been  likewise  once  sitting  in  front.  But  even 
these  latter  did  not  resist  a  well-turned  jeu  de  mots, 
in  which  the  whole  performance  abounds.  In  gene 
ral,  one  would  scarcely  believe  what  a  fund  of  fun 
there  is  in  the  grave  Osmanli,  and  how  sensible  he  is 
of  the  ludicrous. 

"By  the  time  the  performance  is  over,  the  crowd 
begins  to  disperse  in  the  streets,  and  is  wandering 
home,  to  wait  for  the  drum  which  beats  two  hours 
before  the  morning-gun,  for  the  second  meal.  Now 
the  by-streets,  which  have  had  hitherto  a  deserted 
appearance,  dark  and  solitary,  begin  to  get  their 
part  of  the  movement,  although  the  want  of  illumi 
nation  and  the  absence  of  open  shops  always  make 
a  great  difference.  Indeed,  a  lover  of  contrasts  could 
not  do  better  than  to  take  a  stroll  in  the  by-streets 
after  having  walked  about  for  some  time  in  the 
thoroughfares ;  it  is  like  life  and  death ;  here  and  there 
a  solitary  wayfarer,  or  a  mysterious  lady  with  a  ser 
vant  carrying  a  lantern  before  her,  or  a  sleepy  dog, 
who  will  rather  be  trodden  upon  than  move  out  of 


FEAST   OF   BAMAZAN.  351 

the  way,  is  all  he  will  meet.  Yet  it  may  happen  to 
him,  as  it  did  last  time  to  me,  that,  as  if  by  a  magic 
stroke,  the  whole  street  becomes  alive.  We  have  first 
a  dull  trampling  sound  from  afar,  as  if  a  body  of 
troops  were  moving  in  a  run.  It  becomes  more  and 
more  distinct.  The  sound  of  the  steps  is  intermin 
gled  with  shouting  and  yelling ;  at  last  a  lantern  ap 
pears,  and  behind  it  fifty  or  sixty  men,  running  along 
at  a  wonderfully  measured  but  quiet  step,  and  going 
over  every  thing  which  comes  into  their  way.  In 
the  midst  of  them  you  perceive  a  dark  object,  with 
brass  mountings  glittering  in  the  dim  light  of.  the 
Fanar.  They  are  the  firemen,  with  their  portable 
engine,  the  only  one  applicable  in  the  narrow  streets. 
All  the  houses  begin  to  get  animated,  doors  are  un 
locked,  windows  opened,  and  everybody  inquires 
where  the  fire  is.  When  the  host  of  firemen  have 
passed  like  a  wild  chase,  and  inquiry  shows  that  the 
fire  is  far  off,  every  thing  sinks  again  into  silence  and 
solitude. 

"  An  hour  before  sunrise  the  morning-gun  puts  an 
end  to  the  feasting,  and  everybody  turns  in.  Not  less 
interesting  than  at  night,  is  Stamboul  early  in  the 
morning,  in  Kamazan — a  city  of  the  dead  by  daylight. 
If  you  lose  yourself  in  the  interim,  you.  may  go  about 
for  half-an-hour  without  meeting  a  soul — a  strange 
sight  for  any  one  who  knows  Stamboul  in  the  morning 
at  other  times,  for  its  population  are  generally  very 
early  risers." 


LETTER    XLII. 

CELEBRATION   OF   THE   QUEEN'S   BIRTHDAY — THE    FETE-DIEU — ILLUMINA 
TIONS — "THE    NIGHT    OF  DESTINY" — THE    SULTAN'S   VISIT    TO   THE 

MOSQUE   OF   TOPHANA — NIGHT   OF    PRAYER — PRINCE   MURAD. 

Constantinople,  May  30th,  1856. 
My  dear  Mr.  Hornby : 

The  weather  here  continues  most  lovely,  very 
hot  in  the  sun,  but  always  with  a  fresh  breeze,  so  that 
in-doors  it  is  quite  cool.  The  Queen's  birthday  was 
splendidly  celebrated  on  Thursday.  I  took  caique  to 
see  the  shipping  dressed  with  innumerable  flags.  The 
French  and  English  men-of-war  looked  magnificent, 
and  while  the  salvos  of  artillery  were  firing,  one  might 
almost  imagine  an  action  was  being  fought.  Lord 
Stratford  held  a  levee  at  noon,  attended  by  the  French 
embassador,  the  whole  corps  diplomatique,  and  a  great 
number  of  English  officers.  The  court-yard  of  the 
palace  was  lined  with  a  detachment  of  Guards  and 
Highlanders,  and  the  fine  band  of  the  German  Jagers 
played  a  choice  selection  of  airs.  At  the  grand  dinner 
in  the  evening,  the  only  toast  was,  "  Her  Majesty !"  when 
the  discharge  of  three  rockets  from  the  illuminated 
palace  was  answered  by  a  tremendous  salute  from  the 
"  Queen." 

In  the  evening  hundreds  of  ships  were  illuminated. 
At  nine  o'clock,  I  heard  the  guns  plainly  down  here ; 
and  the  tremendous  cheers  of  the  sailors  were  carried 
from  ship  to  ship,  it  is  said,  quite  up  to  the  Black  Sea. 
I  thought  how  pleased  her  majesty  would  have  been, 
(352) 


NIGHT   OF    DESTINY. 

could  she  have  witnessed  such  demonstrations  of  hearty 
affection.  I  plainly  heard  the  band  of  the  German 
Legion  encamped  at  Kulalee,  opposite,  playing  the  an 
them  ;  and  Herbert  Siborne's  men  had  an  immense 
bonfire,  which  lighted  up  the  hills  far  and  wide.  It 
was  a  beautiful  sight  from  our  windows,  for  the  mina 
rets  and  principal  Turkish  palaces  on  the  shore  were 
also  illuminated  for  Eamazan.  Edmund  was  at  the 
embassador's  dinner,  and  I  amused  myself  at  my  old 
seat  on  the  divan,  watching  all  that  was  going  on. 
They  say  that  Pera  had  never  before  seen  so  gay  and 
splendid  a  day.  The  French  celebrated  the  Fete-Dieu 
in  the  Embassy  Church  of  St.  Louis ;  the  palace-yard 
was  tastefully  decorated  with  the  flags  of  the  Allies, 
and  a  guard  of  French  soldiers  was  at  the  door,  and 
lined  the  Avails  of  the  church.  Later  in  the  day,  all  the 
world  was  struggling  to  see  the  Sultan  distribute  the 
medals  for  the  campaign  of  Koumelia,  which  took  place 
in  the  court-yard  of  the  Seraskeriate,  or  War-office.  It 
is  said  that  there  is  to  be  a  special  decoration  for  the 
defense  of  Silistria — of  course  one  for  the  Crimea. 

Friday  was  a  grand  night  on  the  Bosphorus,  after 
the  numerous  fetes  on  shore.  It  was  the  twenty- 
seventh  of  the  fast  of  Eamazan,  or  Night  of  Destiny  to 
all  true  Believers ;  and,  according  to  ancient  custom, 
the  Sultan  went  in  his  state  caique  to  the  Mosque  of 
Tophana,  to  offer  up  the  prayer  of  night.  On  account 
of  the  Peace,  the  illuminations  and  fireworks  were 
more  splendid  than  usual.  We  were  on  board  Mr. 
Whittle's  steam-yacht,  and  had  a  perfect  view  of  the 
"  seven"  glistening  hills  of  light,  rising  out  of  the  most 
fantastic-looking  sea  you  can  conceive ;  here  was  a 
huge,  phantom-looking  ship,  marked  out  in  living  fire ; 
30* 


354  IN    AND   AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

there,  the  dark-flowing  stream ;  then  a  man-of-war, 
one  blaze  of  lamps,  and  throwing  tip  rockets  every  now 
and  then,  which  were  beautifully  reflected  on  the 
waves.  Bordering  the  shore,  were  moored  countless 
caiques,  awaiting  the  Sultan's  approach  in  profound 
silence,  some  filled  with  vailed  Turkish  women  of  the 
poorer  class — all  with  varied  and  attentive  groups, 
looking  still  more  picturesque  by  that  strange  and 
dreamy  light.  This  deep  silence  lasted  for  a  long  time, 
•and  people  seemed  to  sit  in  a  kind  of  delighted  reverie, 
gazing  far  down  to  the  illuminated  masts  in  the  Golden 
Horn  ;  then  back  to  the  glittering  port ;  high  above,  to 
Santa  Sophia,  appearing  still  more  like  enchantment 
among  the  dark  cypresses ;  and  then  on  the  Mosque 
of  Tophana,  on  the  shore,  where  the  Sultan  was  to 
pray,  and  where,  between  the  two  fire-wreathed  mina 
rets,  his  cipher  hung  suspended  high  in  air,  in  lamps 
of  pale  and  gleaming  gold. 

Beneath  this,  in  the  Court  of  Tophana,  were  piled 
heaps  of  cannon-balls — trophies  from  the  Crimea — 
which  were  converted  into  pyramids  of  light,  by 
lamps  skillfully  placed  amongst  them.  The  guard 
house  was  covered  with  warlike  designs,  every  mosque 
with  mystic  ones.  It  was  a  beautiful  sight.  The 
Sultan  came  down  about  nine  o'clock.  The  moment 
he  left  his  palace,  a  signal  was  given,  and  every  one 
in  the  row  of  boats  lighted  up  flambeaux,  in  the 
glare  of  which  came,  swiftly  gliding  on,  the  whitc- 
doved,  and  the  rest  of  the  graceful  royal  caiques. 
Every  English  and  French  man  of- war  burned  blue 
and  red  lights ;  every  public  building  burst  out  into 
a  blaze  ;  and  every  person  in  the  splendid  procession 
could  be  seen  with  perfect  distinctness,  the  Sultan's 


THE   NIGHT   OF    DESTINY.  355 

magnificent  boatmen  being  certainly  the  most  con 
spicuous.  After  the  Sultan  has  passed  to  prayer,  all 
is  silent  and  dark  again,  except  for  the  illuminations ; 
the  torches  are  extinguished,  or  burnt  out.  It  was  as 
if  the  city  and  the  sea  lay  under  some  spell  of  en 
chantment.  All  the  Turks  no  doubt  were  engaged  in 
earnest  prayer,  for  this  is  the  night  in  which  their 
destinies  are  determined  for  the  whole  year  to  come. 
Captain  Hamilton  kindly  took  myself  and  some 
other  ladies  on  shore.  We  stepped  quietly  into  a 
man-of-war's  boat,  and  soon  landed,  among  countless 
crowds  of  caiques,  at  the  stairs  of  Tophana.  The 
court  was  filled  with  the  most  extraordinary  illumina 
tions — large  trees  bearing  fruit  and  flowers,  in  colored 
lamps — exactly  like  the  garden  of  Aladdin.  Beyond, 
among  the  trees,  were  telekis  filled  with  vailed  Turk 
ish  ladies,  attended  by  their  slaves,  all  silent  as  the 
crowds  around ;  even  among  the  dense  masses  of  sol 
diers,  through  which  we  passed  in  this  enchanted 
garden,  not  the  slightest  sound  was  heard ;  all  were 
sunk  in  deep  and  dreamlike  prayer  of  Kader  Gnedessi, 
beneath  millions  of  twinkling  lamps.  About  midnight 
the  vast  crowd  stirred :  the  Sultan's  prayer  was  over, 
which  was  announced  by  some  huge  rockets  sent  high 
into  the  air,  and  scattering  about  thousands  of  many- 
colored  stars.  The  "  Melampus,"  and  all  the  ships  of 
war,  burst  into  a  sea  of  light,  as  the  Sultan  stepped 
into  his  caique  on  his  return  to  the  palace — each  tiny 
caique,  and  even  Greek  and  stranger  barques,  burning 
their  dazzling  torches.  The  fine  figures  of  the  caique- 
jees  standing  up  in  the  glare,  and  holding  them  out  to 
illuminate  the  royal  way — the  vailed  boat-loads  of 
women  and  sailor  groups  behind,  thrown  into  deep 


356  IN   AND   ABOUND   STAMBOUL. 

shadow — had  the  finest  effect  in  the  dark  and  shinino- 

o 

water.  After  the  Sultan  had  passed  by,  the  crowds 
sank  down  again,  and  the  grand  display  of  fireworks 
commenced,  which  is  his  yearly  treat  to  his  people. 

The  yacht  in  which  we  were  was  fancifully  and 
brilliantly  illuminated,  and  the  Sultan's  eldest  son, 
Prince  Murad,  came  on  board,  with  his  tutor,  to  see 
it.  He  is  a  tall,  pale  youth,  of  about  seventeen,  with 
a  broad,  expressionless  face,  and  large  wandering  eyes. 
He  asked,  through  his  tutor,  that  we  might  be  pre 
sented  to  him,  and  looked  very  shy  and  uncom 
fortable  when  we  were.  I  said,  pitying  his  nervousness, 
"  Pray  say  to  his  Highness  that  I  am  happy  to  have 
the  honor  of  seeing  him."  His  Highness  replied : 
"  Tell  her  that  I  am  very  happy  to  see  her"  Then  I 
begged  the  Effendi  to  say  how  charmed  I  had  been 
with  the  beautiful  scene  on  the  Bosphorus  that  night. 
"Tell  her  that  I  am  very  glad  she  liked  it,"  finished 
our  conversation.  I  retreated  on  deck,  and  the  Prince 
looked  with  an  air  of  relief  at  the  embroidered  sofa- 
cushions,  evidently  thinking  Europeans  and  European 
manners  very  formidable,  and  congratulating  himself 
on  having  safely  got  over  an  introduction  to  an  un- 
vailed  woman.  I  think  I  have  now  almost  exhausted 
my  stock  of  Turkish  news,  my  dear  Mr.  Hornby ; 
except  that  there  is  a  report  of  Omar  Pasha's  being 
made  chief  of  a  military  police  at  Constantinople,  which 
most  people  think  would  be  a  dangerous  appointment 
for  the  Sultan — in  feet,  a  second  edition  of  the  Janis 
saries — as  he  has  immense  influence  over  the  wild 
soldiers  he  commands.  The  Bashi-Bazouks  and  the 
Sultan's  Cossacks  are  said  to  be  in  almost  open  re 
bellion  against  the  Turkish  Government.  Since  they 


ABSURD   REPORTS.  357 

have  been  paid  regularly,  and  fed  and  commanded 
by  English  officers,  they  have  been  so  happy,  that 
they  now  refuse  to  return  to  their  former  miserable 
state ;  no  one  knows  what  is  to  be  done  with  them. 
Yery  much  I  pity  the  poor  Sultan.  On  Friday  he 
was  to  have  read  the  Hatti  Sheriff  to  several  regi 
ments  of  his  soldiers,  but  did  not  do  so,  and ,  it  was 
said  he  was  advised  that  it  was  not  safe.  However, 
this  is  but  an  on  dit  of  a  place  famous  for  very  absurd 
ones,  and  I  should  think  such  a  thing  as  reading  a 
proclamation  very  un-Sultanlike.  Stories  of  ap 
proaching  rebellion  everywhere — risings  of  the  Greeks, 
and  afterward  the  massacre  of  all  Christians  by  the 
Turks,  the  moment  our  army  is  gone — are  all  the 
fashion  here  just  now,  but  they  do  not  trouble  us 
much. 


LETTER    XLIII. 

A    SAIL    ON    THE    BOSPHORUS —  THE     "BELLE    POULE*' —  STRAWBERRY- 
GARDENS — LAST    DAY    OF    RAMAZAN. 

Orta-kioy,  June  3d,  1856, 

My  dear  Mother : 

I  enjoyed  my  visit  to  Tlierapia  extremely ;  the 
sea  was  rough,  and  the  cool  breeze  very  refreshing. 
All  the  gentlemen  whom  the  admiral  chooses  to  in 
vite,  go  up  to  Pera  in  the  morning  in  his  steamer, 
which  has  a  curious  look,  waiting  almost  close  to  the 
door  of  the  hotel :  the  ladies  amuse  themselves  as  well 
as  they  can.  Mrs.  Brett  and  I  had  a  sail  on  the  Bos- 
phorus  yesterday  with  a  pleasant  party.  We  all 
lauded  on  the  other  shore,  taking  a  long  ramble  in 
the  Sultan's  Valley,  and  then  to  the  deserted  kiosk 
beyond,  where  the  view  is  very  beautiful,  and  pretty 
tortoises  are  to  be  found. 

The  "  Belle  Poule"  is  lying  off  Beicos  Bay,  among 
many  other  ships.  She  is  painted  black  still,  and  has 
been  since  the  time  when  she  brought  the  body  of 
Napoleon  home  from  St.  Helena.  After  our  saiJ,  we 
walked  in  the  garden  of  the  French  Embassy,  the 
hills  and  the  blue  sea  peeping  in  through  waving 
boughs;  and  then,  in  the  pleasant  winding  shrub 
bery  paths,  we  talked  over  a  visit  to  the  Forest  of 
Belgrade,  and  to  the  old  fountain,  and  Lady  Mary 
Wortley  Montague's  house  near  it.  However,  the 
weather  is  too  warm  inland  to  make  any  expedition 
now,  so  I  must  come  up  from  the  islands  early  some 
(358) 


STKAWB KKR Y    G AKI JENS. 

morning.  We  are  just  off  to  a  cottage  there,  belong 
ing  to  a  Greek  named  Giacomo,  and  Giacomo's  ca- 
vass  is  come  with  a  large  island  caique,  to  remove 
our  goods  and  chattels ;  and  the  hamals  are  come, 
stalking  up  the  stairs;  and  the  Apple-blossom,  and 
Yassili,  and  our  Sais  are  chattering  in  Greek  and 
Turkish,  as  if  the  tongues  of  Babel  were  let  loose ;  so 
I  think  it  is  time  for  me  to  say  good-by. 

June  5th. 

How  I  wish  you  were  here,  among  other  pleasant 
outdoor  wanderings,  to  regale  yourself  with  the  deli 
cious  strawberries  of  our  village,  which  are  now  in 
perfection.  Parties  of  Greeks  and  Turks  are  con 
stantly  visiting  the  cool  strawberry-gardens,  spread 
ing  their  shawls  and  cushions  in  the  shade,  and 
enjoying  the  fruit  and  the  view  at  the  same  time. 
With  very  little  cultivation,  the  plants  produce  won 
derfully.  Hundreds  of  baskets  are  sent  in  to  Con 
stantinople,  besides  those  which  are  discussed  here 
al  fresco.  The  baskets  are  of  a  very  pretty  shape, 
round  and  deep,  with  a  good  stout  handle,  and  hold 
ing  five  or  six  of  what  we  call  "  pottles"  in  England. 
We  get  a  magnificent  dish  for  three  piastres  (six 
pence),  and  no  doubt  they  are  cheaper  to  the  natives. 
It  is  a  pretty  sight  to  see  the  baskets  going  into  Con 
stantinople,  strung  on  a  long  pole,  with  a  Greek  in 
picturesque  costume  at  each  end.  Every  thing  is  a 
picture  here. 

Yesterday  was  the  last  of  Ramazan,  and  the  Sultan 
went  in  procession  to  the  old  palace  at  Seraglio  Point, 
to  take  the  yearly  Ottoman  oaths  of  empire.  Cannon 
thundered,  drums  rolled,  and  streets  and  windows 


360  IN  AND   AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

were  crowded,  to  see  the  procession.  The  minarets 
were  beautifully  illuminated  last  night,  with  wreaths 
of  pale  gold  lamps,  and  words  strung  from  one  mina 
ret  to  another,  on  this  and  the  opposite  shore;  last 
night  it  was  "  Marshalla" — i.  e.  "  God  bless  you,"  in 
Turkish.  The  effect  is  wonderful,  and  the  golden 
words  appear  to  hang  suspended  in  the  air;  in  fact 
this  place  is  more  like  a  dream  than  reality  just  now. 
All  night  the  roll  of  little  drums  is  heard  on  the  hills 
and  in  the  villages,  for  it  is  also  a  Greek  festival. 
The  streets  are  crowded,  and  gay  parties  constantly 
moving  about  on  the  water.  The  poor  here  seem  to 
have  as  greatly  too  much  outdoor  amusement  as  the 
English  have  too  little. 


LETTER    XLIY. 

END   OF    RAMAZAN — ILLUMINATIONS — NIGHT — PALACES   OF   THE    BOSPHO- 

KUS — FEAST  OF    BAIRAM TORCHLIGHT    PROCESSION  OF    THE    SULTAN 

CEREMONY    IN    THE    MOSQUE    OF    TOP1IANA. 

Constantinople,  June  7th,  1856. 

My  dear  Mrs.  Austin : 

Tuesday  the  4th  was  the  last  day  of  the  Rama- 
zan,  and  as  the  rays  of  the  setting  sun  disappeared 
from  valley  and  mountain,  the  roar  of  cannon  from 
"  Ramis-Tchiflik"  announced  that  all  true  Believers 
might  eat  again  in  daylight.  It  is  said  that  an  Imaum 
is  stationed  on  Mount  Olympus  to  catch  the  first 
glimpse  of  the  new  moon  of  the  month  Chevale,  from 
which  dates  the  Mussulman's  new  year ;  and  at  his 
signal  from  afar,  carried  from  minaret  to  minaret,  the 
spell  of  this  long  and  weary  Fast  is  broken,  as  it  were 
by  enchantment,  by  the  sound  of  the  announcing  can 
non;  and  coffee-bearers  and  sherbet-bearers  and  pipe- 
bearers  minister  to  the  longing  and  famished  multi 
tudes  of  Constantinople — to  the  rich  man  who  has 
been  dozing  or  wearily  counting  his  beads  all  day, 
and  to  the  poor  hamal  and  caiquejee  half-fainting  with 
hunger  and  fatigue.  Before  eating,  a  good  Osmanli 
washes,  prays,  gravely  smokes  a  chibouque,  and  sips 
a  cup  of  coffee:  after  these  ceremonies,  he  feasts  in 
right  earnest. 

Two  hours  after  sunset  the  cannons  fire  again,  for 
joy  that  the  Fast  is  ended.   Drums  roll,  fifes  are  heard 
on  the  hills  and  in  the  valleys,  muskets  are  let  off 
31  (361) 


362  IN    AND   AROUND    STAMBOUL. 

every  now  and  then,  and  splendid  rockets  are  thrown 
high  up  in  the  air,  which  have  a  beautiful  effect,  burst 
ing  over  the  dark  water  or  above  darker  cypress-trees. 
By  the  time  that  the  summer's  night  has  fairly  set  in, 
the  Imaums  have  finished  their  work,  and 

"Millions  of  lamps  proclaim  the  feast 
Of  Bairam  through  the  boundless  East." 

As  every  one  says,  it  is  impossible  to  give  an  idea 
of  the  marvelous  beauty  of  these  illuminations.  Hour 
after  hour  I  have  sat  at  the  window  spell-bound,  and 
with  the  idea  of  enchantment  constantly  creeping  over 
me.  The  lamps  are  of  a  pale  gold-color,  clustered, 
thick  as  bees,  round  each  balcony  of  the  high  white 
minarets ;  and  fantastic  devices  are  hung  from  one 
minaret  to  another,  which,  in  the  soft  gray  light  of  the 
summer  night, 

"Glitter  like  a  swarm  of  fire-flies  tangled  in  silver  braid." 

I  have  often  thought  of  those  lines  of  Tennyson's 
during  the  lovely  nights  of  Kamazan. 

The  opposite  mosque  of  Begler  Bay,  on  the  Asian 
side,  was  an  exquisite  object  from  hence.  Far  over 
the  dark  waters  beneath  was  reflected  a  golden  cascade 
of  light,  with  shades  of  purple  waves  amid  its  sprays, 
ever  shifting  and  moving  in  the  stream:  it  was  just 
like  the  Fountain  of  Golden  Water  of  the  Arabian 
Nights,  only  I  saw  it  while  quietly  resting  on  a  soft 
divan,  and  without  taking  the  journey  up  the  en 
chanted  mountain  in  search  of  the  charmed  phial. 
But  these  Asian  hills  looked  enchanted  on  the  last 
night  of  Ramazan :  far  as  the  eye  could  reach  glit 
tered  bright  lights,  some  moving,  some  stationary, 
some  by  darkest  cypress-woods  some  where  I  knew 


FEAST   OF   BAIRAM.  363 

stood  solitary  and  latticed  houses.  The  water's  edge 
was  fringed  with  pale  and  glistening  gold ;  for  at  the 
gateways  of  all  these  silent,  dreamy  palaces  of  the 
Bosphorus,  shone  stars,  and  trees,  and  often  the 
Sultan's  name,  wreathed  on  shore,  but  sparkling  as 
brightly  on  the  waves.  The  Imaum  chanted  to  prayer 
about  an  hour  before  midnight,  and  the  deep,  full, 
prolonged  notes  quite  filled  the  valley.  Every  sound 
in  this  lovely  scene  seemed  as  strange  to  me  as  its 
sights. 

At  last,  half  bewildered  and  half  as  if  in  a  dream, 
I  looked  up  at  the  moon,  and  the  sight  of  her  was 
pleasant  enough ;  for  she  is  always  the  same  in  every 
land,  fair,  serene,  and  kind,  and  always  looks  like 
home.  The  nightingales  were  singing  in  every  cy 
press  near.  It  is  quite  true  what  Byron  says,  and 
here,  in  summer  time, 

"The  voice  of  the  nightingale  never  is  mute." 

Her  sweet  notes,  and  the  moon's  soft  and  tranquil 
beauty,  were  very  composing  after  the  fantastic  and 
bewildering  sights  of  this  Eastern  night's  fete.  The 
Turkish  drums  were  rolling  long  after  midnight,  but 
I  did  not  wait  to  see  the  lamps  die  out. 

So  closed  to  me  the  last  night  of  the  Mussulman 
Old  Year.  Before  day -break  next  morning,  cannon 
announced  the  Feast  of  Bairam,  or  the  New  Year ; 
and  presently  we  heard  the  heavy  tramp  of  a  large 
body  of  troops  marching  into  Constantinople.  It  was 
a  strange  scene,  the  glare  of  their  torches  mingling 
with  the  gray  light  of  morning,  and  shining  on  their 
arms  and  accoutrements.  They  were  going  to  line 
the  streets  through  which  the  Sultan  was  to  pass  on 


364  IN    AND   AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

his  way  to  mosque,  as  first  Imaum,  or  priest  of  Islam 
ism,  which  ceremony  he  always  performs,  as  head  of 
Church  and  State,  on  the  first  day  of  the  New  Year, 
at  day-break.  I  was  very  sorry  not  to  have  gone,  but 
seeing  the  fireworks  on  the  27th  day  of  Eamazan, 
when  the  Sultan  goes  to  mosque  by  torchlight,  had 
so  exhausted  me,  that  I  did  not  think  it  prudent  to 
take  a  row  in  the  mist  at  three  o'clock  in  the  morn 
ing  so  soon  afterward.  The  Sultan's  ladies  all  went 
in  telekis,  and  by  torchlight ;  by  whom,  I  was  told 
that  the  motley  crowd  of  soldiers,  fakirs,  Armenians, 
Turks,  Arabs,  and  black  slaves,  looked  most  pictu 
resque  and  striking.  All  the  pashas  attended  in  gor 
geous  array ;  the  Sultan  was  of  course  splendidly 
mounted ;  and  they  went  to  the  Mosque  of  Tophana, 
where,  it  is  said,  the  Sultan  reads  aloud  the  laws  of 
the  Prophet,  and  swears  to  govern  by  them.  We 
knew  when  this  ceremony  was  over,  because  our  poor 
little  kiosk  trembled  visibly  at  the  roar  of  cannon 
which  follows  it.  The  Sultan  afterward  held  a  levee, 
in  the  open  air,  at  Seraglio  Point,  when  the  pashas 
swear  homage,  and  are  permitted  to  kiss  the  hem  of 
his  garment,  or  rather  two  embroidered  strips  of 
cloth,  several  yards  long,  which  are  attached  to  either 
side  of  his  chair  of  state.  This  is  an  old  ceremony 
of  their  camp- life,  which  I  should  much  like  to  have 
seen  ;  but  another  is  performed  at  the  "  Courbam 
Bairam,"  at  the  end  of  the  month,  and  of  this  I  hope 
to  give  you  an  account.  These  customs,  it  is  affirmed, 
have  been  observed  by  the  Osmanlis  since  the  time 
of  Abraham. 

We  are  going  to  the  Sweet  Waters  of  Europe.     It 
is  a  great  day  there — the  Turkish  Sunday,  and  the 


LAST   DAY    OF   BAIKAM.  365 

last  clay  of  Bairam.  All  the  Faithful  are  in  the  high 
est  spirits;  drums  and  fifes  resound  in  every  valley ; 
the  Bosphorus  is  covered  with  gay  caiques ;  every 
Turk  sports  his  best  garments,  and  forgives  his  ene 
mies,  and  makes  presents  to  his  wives,  children,  and 
slaves ;  for  these  three  days  of  his  New  Year  are  feast- 
days  ;  all  his  sins  have  been  forgiven  him  for  the  Fast 
of  Eamazan,  and  he  is  on  excellent  terms  with  the 
Prophet,  and  with  himself,  and  with  his  beautiful 
Bosphorus.  So  the  Sweet  Waters  will  be  gay  indeed 
to-day,  for  it  is  also  a  Greek  holiday 


LETTEE    XLV. 

A  STROLL — THE   BOSPIIORUS — TURKISH  ARSENAL  — SUBURBS   OP  CONSTAN 
TINOPLE — POVERTY     IN     THE     EAST KIOSKS — STORKS TURKISH     AND 

GREEK  DRESSES — SCENES  ON  THE  RIVER — THE  SWEET  WATERS SCENES 

ON  SHORE — THE    SULTAN 5S    KIOSK THE    SULTANA  AND  HER  DAUGHTER 

EVENING  SCENE RETURN  FROM  THE  SWEET  WATERS. 

Orta-kioy,  June  8tli,  1850. 

My  dear  Mrs.  Austin : 

It  was  very  sultry  yesterday,  so  I  put  on  my 
coolest  muslin  dress  and  rny  wide  straw  hat,  and, 
with  the  Armenian  girl  Dhudu  and  my  cousin  Henry, 
strolled  slowly  through  the  village  in  search  of  a 
caique  to  take  us  to  the  Sweet  Waters  of  Europe, 
whither  all  the  world  had  gone  hours  before.  We 
scarcely  met  a  soul  in  the  usually  crowded  narrow 
streets.  All  were  holiday-making  in  the  shade, 
whither  the  noisy  street-commerce  had  also  followed. 
Only  a  few  Greek  beggars,  and  the  surly  scavenger- 
dogs,  dozed,  or  quarreled  in  groups  here  and  there, 
on  the  loose  pavement-stones  of  the  wayside.  Even, 
the  little  cafe,  usually  crammed  with  noisy,  laughing 
Greeks,  was  almost  deserted  to-day,  and  many  a  bright 
nargileh  stoood  neglected  on  the  clean  and  polished 
table.  We  found  oar  two  favorite  caiquejees  fast 
asleep  in  their  boat,  which  was  moored  in  the  shade 
beside  the  mosque.  Vassili  soon  roused  them  up. 
They  took  the  handsome  boat-cushions  from  under 
the  linen  covering,  made  the  caique  comfortable, 
greased  the  leather  thong  of  their  oars,  and  out  we 

(366) 


TU1P   TO    THE    SWEET    WATERS.  367 

dashed,  through  ships  unloading  cattle  from  Varna, 
on  to  the  middle  of  the  Bosphorus.  Our  white 
umbrellas  sheltered  us  effectually  from  the  sun,  and 
we  had  the  usual  delicious  breeze.  It  was  delight 
ful  sitting  still;  but  large,  round  drops  soon  fell  in 
showers  down  the  bronzed  faces  of  the  rowers,  who 
merely  shook  them  off,  like  a  Newfoundland  dog 
when  he  gets  out  of  the  water,  and  dashed  on  in 
splendid  style  under  this  burning  sun,  with  nothing 
but  a  thin  white  jacket  and  a  light  fez  to  protect 
them  from  its  scorching  rays.  We  met  but  few 
caiques ;  all  were  gone  to  the  Sweet  Waters,  either 
on  the  Asian  or  European  side.  The  flags  of  the 
English  and  French  men-of-war  at  Stamboul  scarcely 
stirred ;  all  was  quiet,  sultry  heat.  The  very  tar 
seemed  blistering  on  the  sides  of  the  vessels,  and 
not  a  soul  was  to  be  seen,  even  on  board  the  French 
frigates,  where  all  is  generally  stir,  and  music,  and 
life. 

The  Bosphorus  was  of  the  loveliest  blue,  and  the 
sky  only  just  a  little  paler  with  the  lightest  "  fleck  " 
of  white  cloud  every  here  and  there,  borne  by  the 
south  wind  from  Mount  Olympus.  It  was  very 
lovely ;  for,  in  the  midst  of  this  gorgeous  Eastern- 
summer's  scene — from  trees  and  flowering  shrubs  in 
their  freshest,  fullest  beauty,  rising  out  of  the  waters 
at  Stamboul — you  had  but  to  turn  your  eyes  to  the 
left,  past  the  Maiden's  Tower  and  the  shadowy 
Prince's  Islands  in  the  Sea  of  Marmora,  to  behold  dis 
tant  mountains  glittering  in  snow,  reposing  in  their 
cold  and  solitary  grandeur,  as  if  disdaining  the  gay 
summer  and  leaves  and  flowers  of  the  lower  world. 
This  place  is  like  a  beautiful  dream ;  but  we  were 


868  IN   AND   ABOUND   STAMBOUL. 

soon  gone  from  it,  and  had  passed  under  the  Bridge 
of  Boats,  and  arrived  at  another,  so  like  the  Chinese 
representation  on  plates,  that  I  almost  expected  to  see 
"  Sing-sing's  "  parasol  peeping  over  it.  Presently  we 
came  to  a  Turkish  arsenal,  and  noticed  an  immense 
ship  with  its  huge  skeleton  just  completed.  Before 
the  arsenal  lay  four  or  five  Turkish  men-of-war  (three- 
deckers,)  in  one  of  which  we  counted  a  hundred  and 
thirty  guns.  They  were  dressed  with  flags,  from  the 
top-mast  down  to  the  very  water's  edge,  in  honor  of 
the  Bairam,  and  made  a  splendid  appearance :  except 
for  the  huge  gilt  lion  at  their  prows,  I  should  not 
have  known  but  that  they  were  English  ships,  though 
perhaps  a  sailor  might.  Mehemet  Ali,  the  Sultan's 
brother-in-law  and  Capitan  Pasha,  was  going  on  board 
one  of  them;  his  boats  were  also  gayly  dressed  with 
flags  and  awnings,  and  the  Turkish  frigates  had 
bands  of  music  on  board.  I  could  not  help  shudder 
ing,  as  I  looked  on  the  standard  of  the  Crescent  and 
Star,  now  waving  quietly  over  the  water,  and  won 
dered  if  any  of  these  ships  had  been  at  the  massacre 
of  Scio,  when  the  Turks  so  mercilessly  put  all  those 
unfortunate  Greeks  to  the  sword:  one  hears  such 
frightful  accounts  of  that  barbarous  affair  still,  from 
the  Greeks,  who  have  never  forgotten  or  forgiven  it. 

After  passing  the  last  bridge,  we  had  an  excellent 
view  of  the  suburbs,  and  the  poorest  part  of  Con 
stantinople,  with  here  and  there  a  ruined  square 
tower,  or  piece  of  ivied  brickwork  of  the  old  Koman 
wall,  peeping  out  from  tumble-down  wooden  houses, 
which  could  only  be  inhabited  by  the  very  poorest 
of  the  poor,  and  look  as  if  the  first  rough  wave  would 
'wash  the  wretched  tenement  away.  Many  of  the 


TRIP  TO  THE   SWEET  WATEKS.  369 

supports  and  rafters  have  really  crumbled  and  broken 
away,  leaving  only  a  few  rotten  boards  between  the 
happy  "  tenant"  and  the  Bosphorus.  A  few  miserable 
donkeys  were  standing  patiently  on  the  shore,  laden 
with  stones,  just  brought  in  by  a  large  Greek  boat, 
whose  bowsprit  was  knocking  in  a  friendly  way  at  a 
frail  little  casement,  and  playfully  threatening  to  de 
molish  it  altogether.  I  wish  Prezioza  would  take  some 
sketches  of  the  Turkish  poor  and  their  habitations. 
/  Though  miserable  enough,  I  must  say  there  is  nothing 
so  frightful  in  their  poverty  as  in  ours.  Street  vice  i 
of  every  kind  is  a  thing  almost  unknown  here,  except 
at  Pera,  and  that  which  is  caused  by  Europeans. 

Poverty  here  is  respectable,  in  every  sense  of  the 
word.  A  hamal's  bride  is  like  Cassar's  wife,  free  from 
all  reproach,  though  dining  upon  an  artichoke  and  a 
piece  of  brown  bread  ;  she  is  stately  and  vailed,  could 
not  be  noisy,  and  never  hangs  out  clothes ;  but  half- 
starves  magnificently  on  a  little  old  divan,  with  a 
fox-skin  to  represent  costly  furs,  and  a  dearly-che 
rished  chibouque  as  a  consoler  for  every  sorrow,  at 
which  she  puffs  away  with  the  air  of  a  princess. 
Poverty  does  not  seem  to  degrade  or  vulgarize  in 
the  East ;  its  very  rags  are  worn  so  royally,  that  one 
no  longer  wonders  at  King  Cophetus,  who  s-ays, 

"This  beggar-girl  shall  be  my  bride." 

She  would  ascend  the  throne  with  the  same  native 
grace,  as  that  with  which  she  a  moment  before  ac 
cepted  a  para,  or  asked  for  a  piece  of  brown  bread 
in  the  name  of  the  Prophet.  But  I  shall  never  get 
to  the  Sweet  Waters  if  I  linger  so  by  the  way. 

We   are   now  rowing   up  a   narrow  creek   of  the 


370  IN   AND   AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

Bospliorus  with  the  environs  of  Pera  on  the  right, 
and  of  Stamboul  on  the  left.  What  a  vast  city 
is  Constantinople !  It  is  wonderful  to  think  how 
people  manage  to  find  their  way  among  the  distant 
and  secluded  parts  of  it,  lying  in  dense  masses  as 
it  does,  without  positive  streets,  and  without  any 
name  or  direction  shown  on  any  part  of  it.  The 
Stamboul  suburbs  seem  very  pretty,  the  dark-red 
masses  of  houses  relieved  here  and  there  by  green 
trees,  which  have  sprung  up  in  large  spaces  made  by 
fires  long  ago,  and  by  ruined  walls  covered  with 
creepers  of  the  most  luxuriant  kinds,  especially  the 
Virginian.  We  passed  the  great  fez  manufactory, 
which  belongs  to  the  Sultan,  and  brings  him  in  a 
large  revenue,  being  a  royal  monopoly.  His  majesty 
has  a  beautiful  kiosk,  or  summer-palace,  close  to  it, 
with  a  mosque  and  shady  garden  adjoining;  making 
about  the  hundredth  he  has  on  the  Bosphorus.  The 
windows  of  the  harem  part  were  not  latticed,  but  a 
high  white  railing,  built  far  out  in  the  water,  pre 
vents  all  prying  caiques  from  going  near  enough  to 
tell  a  yashmak  from  a  feridjee.  In  the  shallow  water, 
near  the  railings,  grew  a  large  tuft  of  tall  water- 
flags,  and  near  it  was  a  magnificent  pair  of  storks, 
the  first  I  have  seen  here.  One  of  them  was  standing 
perfectly  still,  as  if  admiring  her  snowy  plumage  and 
bright-red  legs  in  the  water;  the  other  was  fishing 
at  a  little  distance  very  adroitly,  wading  about,  and 
every  now  and  then  swallowing  a  glittering  fish  with 
evident  satisfaction.  Our  caiquejees  treated  them  with 
great  respect,  and  told  me  they  were  very  good  birds 
— "  Chok  izi  kush."  We  were  much  amused  all  the 
way,  learning  Turkish  words  of  our  caiquejees  :  they 


TRIP  TO   THE   SWEET  WATERS.  371 

told  us  the  Turkish  names  of  different  things  which 
we  passed,  and  we  returned  the  compliment  by  in 
structing  them  in  the  English,  each  party  repeating 
the  word  or  sentence  over  and  over  again.  Nothing 
can  equal  the  good-humor  and  good-breeding  of  these 
fine  fellows. 

But  now  the  creek  has  become  much  narrower — 
about  the  breadth  of  the  Thames  at  Weybridge — and 
we  are  far  from  palaces  and  minarets  and  Eoman 
walls,  and  far  from  tumble-down  houses  and  arsenal 
stores.  We  have  left  the  seven-hilled  city  behind, 
and  are  rowing  up  a  valley  surrounded  with  green 
slopes  and  mountainous  hills.  Our  caiquejees  tell  us 
that  this  valley  and  these  fine  hills  belong  to  the 
Sultan,  who  has  a  kiosk  higher  up ;  but  this  we  had 
divined,  for  magnificent  trees  begin  to  appear,  which 
only  adorn  the  land  about  Constantinople  when  it 
belongs  to  the  Sultan  or  some  great  pasha — to  make 
their  paradise  perfect.  But  now,  borne  on  the  soft 
breeze  over  the  scented  water-flags,  come  distant 
sounds  of  revelry. 

This  delicious  shade  from  overhanging  trees,  and 
the  pleasant  sound  of  our  oars  in  the  dark-green  water, 
with  the  glimpse  here  and  there  of  a  gay  caique  moored 
against  the  sedgy  banks,  bring  pleasant  thoughts  of 
the  "  lotus-eaters,"  and  many  a  dreamy  Eastern  fancy, 
as  we  lean  back  in  the  caique,  and  wish  every  one  we 
love  was  with  us.  But  as  we  speed  on,  the  crowd  of 
caiques  becomes  thick,  and  our  dreams  are  chased 
away  as  we  look  about  and  admire  the  various  occu 
pants,  and  by  the  more  prudential  care  of  minding  that 
wild  young  Greeks  do  not  dart  the  sharp  prow  of  their 


372  IN  AND  AROUND  STAMBOUL. 

boat  right  through,  your  new  straw  bonnet  or  the  back 
of  your  head. 

Another  turn  in  the  river,  and  the  most  beautiful, 
the  most  brilliantly  colored  and  varied  scene  was 
before  us.  Fancy  an  Italian  villa  in  a  richly  orna 
mented  style,  mingling  its  shadows  in  the  water  with 
the  high  trees  surrounding  it,  the  blue  sky  peeping  in 
above,  and  a  distracting  glance  of  rose  and  orange  gar 
dens  on  either  side,  in  which  Turkish  ladies,  vailed 
and  splendidly  attired,  are  walking  slowly  about,  or 
reclining  on  cushions  in  the  shade.  Fancy  knowing 
that  one  of  these,  and  the  fairest,  is  the  Sultan's  daugh 
ter,  and  the  rest  her  ladies,  enjoying  the  Bairam,  in 
this  happy  valley,  for  the  day.  Fancy  opposite  the 
windows  of  the  palace,  floating  idly,  her  oars  at  rest,  a 
huge  caique,  gilt  and  flowered  at  prow  and  stern,  and 
filled  with  picturesque  Greeks  in  bright  holiday  attire. 
The  women  have  stuck  roses  and  lilies  into  the  em 
broidered  handkerchiefs  wreathed  round  their  heads. 
The  men's  jackets  are  resplendent  with  gold  and  scar 
let  and  green.  Three  boys  in  the  stern  play  on  a 
kind  of  guitar,  and  a  rude  drum  made  out  of  an  earth 
enware  water- vase.  They  are  all  laughing  in  the 
wildest  mirth,  taking  up  the  song  one  after  another. 

Fancy,  in  contrast  to  this,  a  Turkish  boat,  stealing 
noiselessly  along,  filled  with  vailed  and  silent  women, 
and  carefully  guarded  by  hideous  and  ferocious  blacks. 
In  the  middle  of  this  boat  stands  up  a  lovely  Turkish 
child,  about  five  years  old.  She  must  be  a  pasha's 
daughter,  for  down  the  front  of  her  velvet  and  em 
broidered  cap  is  a  badge  of  brilliants,  with  a  large 
emerald  in  the  centre.  Her  dress  is  a  jacket  and 
trousers,  of  that  soft  green  satin  of  which  the  feridjees 


TRIP  TO  THE  SWEET  WATERS.        373 

are  made ;  and  round  her  waist  the  dear  little  beauty 
wears  a  belt  of  gold  embroidery  with  a  jeweled  clasp. 
She  is  pointing  to  a  most  singular  group.  About 
twenty  huge  musk-oxen  have  waded  into  the  water, 
and  their  hideous,  black,  fat  heads,  and  crooked  horns, 
look  so  strange  among  the  sparkling  waves,  and  in  the 
midst  of  this  brilliant  scene.  It  must  be  very  sultry, 
for  they  will  not  move,  even  for  the  raps  which  they 
get  from  the  numerous  oars  in  passing  by,  but  their 
large  black  eyes  glitter  with  pleasure  and  enjoyment. 
No  doubt  they  have  brought  to  the  Sweet  Waters 
many  a  weighty  load  of  Turkish  beauty,  in  their  crim 
son  and  gold-canopied  wagons,  and  are  now  reposing, 
in  luxurious  Asiatic  abandonment,  after  the  heat  and 
labor  of  the  day. 

I  was  thinking  what  a  gorgeous  picture  of  Eastern 
life  this  group  before  the  kiosk  would  be,  when  the 
rapid  approach  of  a  splendid  Tunisian  boat  obliged 
our  caique  to  dart  rapidly  on,  in  order  to  make  way. 
Seated  under  a  richly -fringed  white  and  scarlet  canopy 
were  two  Tunisian  officers,  in  full  costume,  and  with 
military  orders  on  their  breasts.  Noble,  swarthy-look 
ing  men  they  were,  and  would  have  made  excellent 
"fancy  portraits"  of  Saladin  or  Osman,  or  any  other 
famed  Eastern  warrior  of  olden  times.  Their  boat, 
painted  in  stripes  of  white  and  green,  was  rowed  by 
sixteen  men  in  flowing  white  robes,  with  an  under- 
vest  of  scarlet  showing  down  the  breast.  Two  soldiers, 
bristling  with  splendid  arms  a  la  Bashi-Bazouk,  sat  in 
the  stern.  Of  course  all  wore  the  scarlet  fez,  with  its 
rich  purple  tassel.  Their  gay  standard  flutters 
proudly  in  the  breeze :  they  make  a  dazzling  appear- 
'32 


374  IN    AND    AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

ance,  and  you  fancy  that  they  must  be  going  to  pay  a 
visit  to  the  Caliph  Ilaroun  Alraschid. 

But  now  the  river  has  become  so  crowded,  that  it  is 
with  the  greatest  difficulty  we  can  get  on.  The  caiques 
are  so  thick  that  it  is  only  possible  for  our  men  to  pull 
a  few  strokes  every  now  and  then.  There  is  an  im 
mense  amount  of  shouting  in  Greek  and  Turkish,  es 
pecially  at  antique-looking  Greek  boats  with  fringed 
and  beaded  prows ;  for  the  revelers  in  them  are  sing 
ing,  and  drumming,  and  shouting,  in  the  wildest  man 
ner,  allowing  themselves  to  float  as  chance  may  direct, 
and  not  troubling  themselves  to  get  out  of  anybody's 
way — much  to  the  disgust  of  the  majestic  Turks,  who 
float  \)y,  with  their  calm  and  dignified  aspect,  looking 
neither  to  the  right  nor  to  the  left. 

The  banks  meanwhile  are  most  lovely  to  look  on. 
Your  eye  is  charmed,  delighted,  and  contented,  for 
there  is  nothing  to  wish  for,  nothing  to  imagine :  it  is 
a  full,  complete,  and  harmonious  picture.  Here  and 
there  guitars  hang  on  the  trees.  Group  after  group, 
in  the  most  splendid  and  varied  costumes,  are  seated 
under  the  dark  plane  trees,  from  their  deepest  shade 
down  to  the  gay  and  sparkling  water's  edge,  where 
a  beauty  in  snow-white  vail,  and  shining  lilac  ferid- 
jee  trimmed  with  silver,  is  laughing  with  a  lovely 
child  and  her  black  attendants,  who  are  carrying  em 
broidered  cushions  from  the  quietly  moored  caique. 
Every  turn  on  the  river  brings  you  upon  different 
groups  on  either  side,  the  last  appearing  more  striking 
than  the  first. 

By  the  landing-place  the  banks  were  literally  lined 
with  Turkish  women  in  white  vails,  and  feridjees  of 
every  possible  brilliant  or  delicate  color,  from  blue, 


TKIP   TO    THE   SWEET   WATERS.  875 

trimmed  with  rose-color,  and  cherry  trimmed  with 
silver,  to  delicate  apple-green  and  the  palest  straw- 
color,  The  dark-brown  and  dark-green  feridjees  of 
the  slaves,  or  the  poorer  women,  prevent  one's  eye 
from  being  wearied  with  too  much  brilliancy.  It  is 
perfect,  and  you  are  delighted  even  with  the  rude 
Greek  songs  and  their  wiry-sounding  guitars. 

The  Greeks  keep  mostly  on  the  left  bank  of  ,the 
river — of  course  men  and  women  together ;  but  no 
Turk  of  any  rank  is  ever  seen  with  his  womankind ; 
the  women  sit  or  walk  in  groups  with  their  children 
and  slaves,  and  laugh  and  eat,  and  enjoy  a  summer's 
day  like  a  bird  or  a  fish.  They  have  little  to  prize  but 
the  hour,  poor  things !  so  they  may  as  well  be  happy 
while  they  can,  until  their  beauty  is  gone,  and  they 
are  less  esteemed  than  the  ox  which  carries  them. 

At  last  we  are  on  shore,  and  mark  well  the  spot 
by  an  old  willow-tree  and  a  few  rough  planks  where 
our  caique  is  safely  moored.  One  of  our  caiquejees, 
mounting  a  pair  of  coarse-knitted  socks  and  an  old 
pair  of  red  canoelike  shoes,  follows  us  with  camp- 
chairs  and  white  umbrellas.  We  are  on  the  edge  of 
a  wide  plain,  over  which  English  officers  are  gallop 
ing,  with  every  here  and  there  a  Turkish  lancer,  and 
a  couple  of  wild  Greeks  dashing  recklessly  along,  de 
termined  to  win  the  race  for  the  honor  of  the  new 
scarlet  and  gold  jacket,  and  because  a  splendidly  - 
mounted  French  officer  is  looking  quietly  on.  The 
sun  is  excessively  sultry  on  the  plain,  and  the  arabas 
make  a  great  dust ;  so  we  dart  under  the  shade  of  the 
trees  by  the  water's  edge,  and  admire  the  nice  contri 
vance  of  a  Turk  for  the  distribution  of  really  cool 
sherbet  and  lemonade  to  the  multitude.  His  empo- 


376  IN    AND   AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

rium  is  in  the  shape  of  a  gigantic  canvas  umbrella. 
You  look  at  it  with  respect,  for  it  might  have  be 
longed  to  Jack's  vastest  giant.  It  is  covered  with 
fresh  green  boughs,  which  cast  a  pleasant  shadow  over 
the  little  table  underneath,  delicately  adorned  with  a 
white  cloth,  and  graced  with  three  enormous  decan 
ters  of  sherbet,  each  stopped  with  an  immense  lemon. 
There  is  a  great  crowd  here,  and  our  Turk,  in  his  blue 
and  white  turban,  looks  contentedly  on  his  heap  of 
piastres. 

His  next-door  neighbor  is  a  Greek,  who  has  very 
cleverly  made  a  rude  kind  of  altar  out  of  clay.  On 
this  some  charcoal  is  burning.  Little  white  and 
gold  cups  are  in  a  basket  by  his  side.  There  are 
a  few  rough  stools  around  him,  just  in  the  shade. 
This  is  a  cafe;  and  the  Greeks,  Armenians,  English, 
French,  Circassians,  Arabs,  Blacks,  Croats,  and  Per 
sians  of  this  motley  throng  stop,  as  they  stroll  by,  to 
take  a  fragrant  cup,  or  to  rest  awhile  on  the  little 
wooden  stools  under  the  tree.  The  gayly-dressed 
Greek  strawberry  sellers  look  very  picturesque,  car 
rying  the  pretty  baskets  of  fruit  on  long  poles  from 
shoulder  to  shoulder,  stopping  at  the  doors  of  arabas 
by  the  wayside,  and  then  darting  off  to  distant  parties 
of  revelers,  whence  still  come  sounds  of  laughter,  and 
of  guitars,  and  of  little  drums. 

We  still  press  on  through  the  crowd,  past  sellers 
of  many-colored  sweetmeats,  of  yahoort,  (a  kind  of 
sour  milk,  white  as  snow,)  and  of  semeet,  bread 
sprinkled  with  small  seed,  and  hanging  in  tempting 
brown  wreaths  round  the  basket.  A  magnificent  old 
Turk  is  selling  kabobs,  (small  pieces  of  meat  strung 
and  roasted  on  sticks),  which  are  kept  hot  by  a  little 


TRIP   TO   THE   SWEET  WATERS.  877 

iron  machine  turning  round  a  charcoal  fire.  A  large 
wild  dog,  with  a  strong  infusion  of  wolf  about  him, 
sits  at  a  little  distance  sniffing  the  savory  smell ;  but 
that  is  all  the  poor  wanderer  seems  likely  to  get  for 
his  pains. 

We  amused  ourselves  by  watching  the  crowds  for 
some  time,  and  then  walked  on  to  get  a  peep  at 
the  Sultan's  kiosk.  It  seemed  in  bad  repair,  for  I 
believe  he  seldom  goes  there,  but  the  trees  around  it 
were  magnificent,  and  we  heard  nightingales  singing 
in  the  deepest  shade.  The  very  luxury  of  neglect 
seemed  delicious  on  this  sultry  clay,  and  peeps,  of 
distant  grass-grown  walks  and  sedgy  fountains  were 
charming.  At  the  gate  of  the  kiosk  stood,  or  rather 
lolled,  a  depressed-looking  Turkish  soldier,  holding 
his  musket  all  on  one  side,  (as  they  always  do),  and 
when  bored,  tossing  it  about  as  a  school-girl  does  her 
parasol. 

The  gateway  looked  down  a  fine  avenue  of  trees 
on  to  a  canal,  very  like  those  at  Hampton  Court,  but 
neglected  of  course,  and  only  suggesting  what  the 
place  might  be  in  other  hands.  We  walked  down  the 
banks  of  this  canal,  under  the  shade  of  the  huge 
waving  boughs.  On  the  opposite  side  were  rich  mea 
dows  belonging  to  the  kiosk ;  and  grazing  here  and 
there  were  all  the  Sultan's  favorite  horses,  turned 
out  to  grass  for  the  summer  months.  It  was  a  very 
pretty  sight,  for  there  were  at  least  two  hundred  of 
these  fine  creatures;  and  the  attendant  Arabs  and 
Turks,  quietly  smoking  at  the  doors  of  their  tents, 
looked  the  very  picture  of  turbaned  happiness  and 
content,  as  they  gazed  on  some  beautiful  white,  or 
32* 


378  IN   AND   AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

brown,  or  chestnut  favorite,  pawing  in  the  distance, 
and  rejoicing  in  its  strength  and  liberty. 

These  rich  pastures  are  on  the  left  side  of  the 
canal ;  on  the  right  is  a  broad  road,  and  up  and  down 
this  drove  arabas  and  ox-carriages  with  crimson 
and  gold  awnings,  filled  with  vailed  women,  and  rude 
wooden  carts  filled  with  Greeks  in  holiday  attire. 
How  astonished  Rotten  Row  would  be !  I  thought 
this,  as  a  fine  Turk  of  the  old  school  rode  majesti 
cally  by  on  a  snow- white  mule  with  scarlet  trappings. 
He  was  evidently  a  descendant  of  the  Prophet,  by 
his  green  turban :  his  flowing  robes  were  of  spotless 
white ;  his  bare  legs  of  a  fine  bronze  color,  and  his 
shoes  red.  He  was  quite  a  picture,  though  moving 
along  under  the  old  plane-trees  by  the  wayside ;  but 
so  was  an  English  officer,  dashing  by  with  two  Cri 
mean  clasps  on  his  breast,  and  a  little  bunch  of 
golden  acacia-flowers  in  his  hand,  (sold  in  all  the 
streets  here,  and  having  a  delicious  scent),  I  suppose 
to  give  to  "somebody;"  and  so  were  two  stately  Cir 
cassians,  in  their  flowing  robes  and  splendid  arms  ; 
and  so,  in  fact,  was  every  thing  in  the  Yalley  of  the 
Sweet  Waters,  including  two  wild  Negro  boys 
mounted  on  the  same  horse,  and  stopping  by  the 
fountain  to  dispute  merrily  which  should  alight  for 
water.  On  the  bank  by  the  fountain  sat  a  poor  old 
Dervish  and  three  or  four  vailed  Turkish  women,  en 
joying  the  shade,  for  the  fountain  tree  is  a  very  fine 
one.  But  I  shall  never  get  to  the  end  of  my  journey 
if  I  attempt  to  describe  half  the  groups  which  de 
lighted  me  so  much. 

We  sat  down  to  rest  a  little  farther  on,  in  a  small 
thicket  of  trees  very  like  some  of  those  in  Bushy  Park. 


TRIP  TO  THE  SWEET  WATERS.        379 

and  we  rested  right  royally.  First  we  sipped  some 
delicious  sherbet ;  then  we  ate  a  few  crisp  almond- 
cakes,  dotted  with  pistachio-nuts ;  then  we  clapped  our 
hands,  and  the  "  musicians  "  came  and  entertained  us 
with  "  a  concert  of  music,"  sitting  cross-legged  at  our 
feet.  I  must  confess  that  it  would  have  been  intoler 
able,  but  that  we  were  possessed  with  the  notion  of 
doing  all  as  in  an  Arabian  Nights'  story.  Then  we 
drank  delicious  coffee,  handed  by  a  graceful  young 
Greek,  who  spoiled  the  effect  of  his  classical  coun 
tenance  by  looking  too  sharply  after  piastres.  Then 
we  laughed  immoderately  at  the  coaxings  and  non 
sense  of  three  beautiful  wild  Arab  girls,  wanting  to 
tell  our  fortunes  in  real  Arabic,  and  regretted  deeply 
that  we  were  not  artists  and  geniuses,  to  paint  their 
splendid  features,  raven  hair  and  eyes,  and  most  royal 
rags.  Then  we  looked  admiringly  at  our  neighbors, 
seated  on  cushions  on  the  grass — four  beautiful  Turk 
ish  women,  like  tulips  for  bright  raiment,  and  with  shy 
smiles  for  all,  behind  their  thin  vails.  Their  ox-car 
was  close  by,  caned,  and  with  large  gilt  wings  carved  on 
its  sides.  The  white  oxen,  with  their  cheeks  and  fore 
heads  painted  red,  and  with  necklaces,  of  blue  beads, 
worn  as  charms  against  the  "evil  eye,"  lay  content 
edly  resting  by  the  slaves,  who  chatted  and  laughed, 
and  were  as  merry  as  the  rest.  This  was  a  beautiful 
group.  Grolden  sunlight,  stealing  through  the  boughs, 
illumined  the  soft  vailed  faces,  the  richly  embroidered 
cushions,  and  the  antique-shaped  water- vases,  the  rude 
but  magnificent  car,  the  gentle  white  oxen,  and  the 
richly -attired  black  slaves. 

It  was  one  of  those  splendid  pictures  so  difficult  to 
leave ;  but  the  Sultana's  carriage  was  crossing  the  lit- 


380  IN    AND   AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

tie  white  bridge  from  the  Sultan's  kiosk,  and  we 
hastened  (as  much  as  it  is  possible  to  hasten  in  this 
charmed  land)  to  get  a  look.  The  Sultana,  or  chief 
wife  of  the  present  Sultan,  is  the  mother  of  his  sons, 
and  it  is  said  he  is  greatly  attached  to  her.  Her 
daughter,  lately  married  to  Ali-ghalib  Pasha,  the  son 
of  Eedshid  Pasha,  is  considered  the  prettiest  woman 
in  Turkey.  Over  the  picturesque  white  bridge  came 
their  carriage,  drawn  by  four  superb  black  horses.  A 
Turkish  officer,  mounted  on  a  white  horse  gayly 
caparisoned,  rode  before,  and  about  twenty  Lancers 
brought  up  the  rear.  The  carriage  was  peach-colored, 
and  completely  covered  with  barbarous  silver  orna 
ments  ;  the  spokes  of  the  wheels  were  gilt,  and  the 
axletrees  silver;  the  ends  of  the  reins  were  peach- 
colored  ribbons ;  the  coachman,  a  mixture  of  mounte 
bank,  Turk,  and  dressed-up  monkey. 

But  the  ladies  inside,  how  beautiful  and  gentle  and 
delicate  they  seemed  to  me !  The  Sultana  occupied 
the  princial  seat  in  the  carriage,  and  her  daughter  sat 
opposite.  The  Sultana  is  very  small  and  very  pretty, 
but  melancholy-looking,  and  with  an  air  of  exquisite 
refinement  about  her  which  is  difficult  to  express.  I 
had  just  time  to  notice  this,  when  my  eyes  fell  and 
rested  on  the  Princess.  Fortunate  that  I  was  not 
Abulhassan  the  Prince  of  Persia!  It  is  quite  true 
that  a  Turkish  beauty — really  a  beauty — "strikes  you 
all  of  a  heap,"  as  the.  sailors  say.  The  Princess  sat, 
bending  slightly  forward  in  the  carriage,  her  "gazelle 
eyes  "  resting  thoughtfully  on  a  Turkish  fan  of  snow- 
white  feathers,  which  she  held  in  her  hand,  the  centre 
of  which  was  entirely  of  emeralds  and  diamonds — 
slight  as  a  fairy — the  exquisite  tint  of  her  skin,  seen 


TRIP  TO  THE  SWEET  WATERS.        881 

through  the  misty  white  vail,  just  the  hue  of  a  shell 
where  it  approaches  pink.  The  delicate  robe  of  palest 
sea-green,  and  the  wreath  of  diamonds  trembling 
round  her  head  like  splendid  drops  of  water  in  a 
charmed  crown,  instantly  reminded  me  of  Undine  in 
her  softest  mood,  traveling  in  this  rich  but  fantastic 
equipage  to  visit  some  great  River  Queen  on  shore  for 
the  day. 

About  fifteen  arabas,  more  or  less  gilt  and  flowered, 
followed  the  royal  carriage.  In  the  first  four  all  the 
ladies  of  the  Harem  were  dressed  alike.  First  pale- 
blue  feridjees  with  diamond  stars  shining  under  their 
white  vails :  then  a  magnificent  amber-color  shot  with 
white,  green  trimmed  with  gold,  purple,  pink,  and 
violet,  gems  shining  on  every  head  and  breast.  It  is 
something  to  see  the  ladies  of  the  Harem,  on  the  fete- 
days  of  Bairam,  in  all  their  splendor.  We  saw  them 
well,  as  the  carriages  stood  still  for  some  time  on  the 
plain,  until,  I  am  sorry  to  say,  the  disgraceful  conduct 
of  the  English  and  French  officers  obliged  them  to 
move  on.  After  driving  slowly  once  round  the  plain, 
the  train  of  arabas  disappeared  down  the  winding  road 
which  leads  through  the  valley  to  Beshiktash. 

The  shadows  were  by  this  time  beginning  to 
lengthen,  and  we  agreed  to  look  for  our  caique.  It 
was  very  pleasant  to  sink  down  on  its  cushions  again, 
after  all  the  walking  we  had  had  through  the  valley 
and  avenues.  The  river-scene  was  beautiful  beyond 
description,  in  the  purple  light  of  the  setting  sun, 
falling  upon  departing  caique-loads,  upon  the  fine 
trees  and  distant  mountainous  slopes,  where  here  and 
there  a  scarlet  feridjee  moved  slowly  along  or  rested 
by  the  way,  and  on  a  few  splendid  groups  of  Greeks, 


382  IN   AND  AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

still  remaining  on  the  banks.  Almost  all  the  Turkish 
women  and  their  attendants  had  left,  but  the  Greeks 
seem  to  be  the  most  insatiable  people  in  the  world 
for  pleasure.  They  were  now  singing,  laughing,  and 
dancing,  as  if  they  had  that  moment  commenced. 
The  children,  and  many  of  the  young  men,  had  made 
crowns  of  rushes,  which  they  wore  with  evident  de 
light.  Others  had  twisted  chaplets  of  wild-flowers 
round  their  heads.  The  little  liquid -sounding  drums 
were  beating  time  to  the  songs  as  industriously  as 
ever,  which,  although  rude  enough,  mingled  plea 
santly  with  the  sound  of  oars  and  the  splashing  of 
water,  as  countless  caiques  dashed  down  the  stream. 
Presently  we  came  to  a  secluded  creek,  and  under 
some  large  trees  was  a  singular  group  preparing  to 
depart. 

Some  French  officers  had  " fraternized"  with  a  party 
of  Arabs,  and  were  taking  an  impressive  adieu,  before 
stepping  into  a  man-of-war's  boat  with  the  tri-color 
fluttering  gayly  in  the  evening  breeze.  Some  of  the 
Arab  women,  with  their  loose  vails  flowing  round 
their  dark  faces,  came  tripping  with  bare  feet  among 
the  thick  water-plants  which  shrouded  the  prow  of  the 
boat ;  and  a  little  child,  with  its  single  ragged  garment 
fluttering  in  the  air,  was  scampering  down  with  them 
to  see  the  last  of  the  companions  of  evidently  a  very 
merry  repast.  Some  French  sailors  were  bringing 
down  baskets  and  other  evidences  of  their  good  cheer 
under  the  plane-trees  that  day. 

How  we  enjoyed  our  row  back  in  the  purple  light 
of  the  evening,  and  the  cool,  pleasant  smell  of  the 
water-plants,  which  we  touched  with  our  oars  now  and 
then  in  avoiding  the  crowds  of  caiques !  I  looked  for 


TRIP   TO   THE    SWEET    WATERS.  383 

the  storks  again,  and  saw  one  of  them  still  fishing  and 
wading  about  in  the  water. 

When  we  got  as  far  as  the  arsenal,  the  crowd  of 
returning  caiques  was  really  a  wonderful  sight; 
carriages  returning  from  "  the  Derby "  in  England 
were  nothing  to  it,  and  I  could  not  help  comparing 
the  two  almost  national  fete-days.  Here  was  the 
wildest  mirth,  but  neither  drunkenness  nor  vulgar 
mischief.  The  Turks  were  floating  by  as  calmly  and 
composedly  as  they  went — the  Greeks,  wild  among 
themselves,  but  offending  no  one.  I  shall  long 
think  of  that  return  from  the  Sweet  Waters  at  sun 
set,  with  the  minarets  of  beautiful  Stamboul  shining 
before  us,  and  the  picturesque  groups  on  the  purple 
water.  Here  the  sun  sets,  as  has  been  so  truly  said, 

"Not,  as  in  Northern  climes,  obscurely  bright, 
But  one  unclouded  blaze  of  living  light." 

Now  the  distant  domes  of  Achmetie  and  Santa 
Sophia,  the  lofty  cypresses,  the  masses  of  dark-red 
houses,  the  flag-embellished  men-of-war,  with  their 
huge  gilt  lions,  the  turrets  of  the  Koman  Wall,  and 
the  windows  of  many  palaces  were  illumined  in  a 
clear  haze  (if  I  may  use  the  expression)  of  purple 
and  gold,  which  must  be  seen  to  be  believed,  but 
which  we  watch  with  delight  every  evening  stealing- 
over  the  Asian  hills. 

Two  antique  caiques,  lashed  together,  made  a  mag 
nificent  picture  in  this  gorgeous  light.  Several  of  the 
men  in  them  were  remarkably  handsome,  and  one 
was  standing  up,  reciting  a  story  with  great  emphasis 
and  gesture,  to  which  all  listened  with  attention  while 


384  IN   AND   AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

another,  with  a  wreath  of  wild-flowers  and  rushes 
round  his  head,  reclined  at  the  stern  of  the  caique, 
with  one  foot  dangling  in  the  green  waves  as  they 
floated  slowly  on.  In  another  of  these  bound-together 
caiques  some  rude  dancing  was  going  on,  as  well  as 
circumstances  would  permit,  the  dancer  singing  and 
reciting  loudly  all  the  time.  These  fine  figures  of 
Greeks  looked  wonderfully  well,  standing  up,  in  their 
gold-embroidered  holiday  jackets  and  rich  sashes,  in 
the  sunlight.  But  just  before  coming  to  the  first 
bridge  of  Constantinople  we  were  delighted  indeed ;  for 
on  two  enormous  piles  of  timber,  in  a  kind  of  arsenal- 
yard,  close  to  the  sea,  were  crowded,  in  every  shade 
of  bright  and  sombre-colored  feridjee,  hundreds  of 
Turkish  women ;  they  were  sitting  by  the  wayside  to 
see  the  rich  and  gay  return  from  the  Sweet  Waters, 
just  as  those  who  are  unable  to  go,  watch  the  crowds 
return  from  races  and  fetes  by  the  wayside  near  Lon 
don.  But  this  was  a  splendid  sight,  the  purple  and 
gold  light  of  the  setting  sun  falling  upon  two  vast 
piles  of  groups  of  richest  dye,  and  on  the  soft  white 
vails,  and  upon  little  children  playing  with  the  ripples 
at  their  feet.  What  would  a  painter  not  have  given 
to  have  seen  it,  and  what  would  the  world  say  could 
he  paint  it ! 

But  my  description  of  our  day  at  the  Valley  of  the 
Sweet  Waters  must  come  to  an  end,  or  you  will  be 
as  tired  as  our  poor  caiquejees  were,  pulling  up  the 
rapid  stream  of  the  Bosphorus. 

We  left  all  the  revelers  far  behind  long  before 
reaching  Orta-kioy,  and  enjoyed  a  rest  in  our  cool, 
quiet  little  arbor,  before  relating  our  adventures 
at  dinner-time.  We  had  certainly  spent  a  very 


TRIP  TO  THE    SWEET   WATERS.  385 

delightful  day,  and  our  quiet  friend  Dhudu  thought 

O  J  I  1 

so  too.  In  the  evening  we  sipped  coffee  on  our 
divan  under  the  window,  listening  to  nightingales 
singing  far  and  near,  and  watching  the  fire-flies 
flitting  among  the  orange-trees  and  passion-flowers, 
and  the  illuminated  minarets  of  the  last  night  of 
Bairam. 

33 


LETTEE    XLYI. 

THUNDER-STORM — RETURN   OP   TROOPS — THE   COMMISSION. 

Orta-kioy,  June  9th,  1856. 

My  dearest  Mother : 

I  am  writing  to  you  in  the  midst  of  a  tremen 
dous  thunder-storm.  About  seven  o'clock  huge  black 
clouds  came  frowning  down  from  the  north.  The 
Bosphorus  was  quite  darkened  over,  and  we  could  not 
see  halfway  down  the  valley.  Presently  down  came 
large,  heavy  drops  of  rain,  pattering  upon  the  dusty 
fig-leaves;  then  such  floods  as  I  have  only  seen  here, 
tearing  the  very  roads  to  pieces.  In  about  a  quarter 
of  an  hour  an  angry  stream  of  turbid  yellow  water 
(almost  a  river)  dashed  down  from  the  hills,  over  the 
road  by  the  side  of  our  house ;  and  loud  was  the  con 
flict  of  wind  and  water,  where  only  an  hour  before 
weary  cattle  had  panted  up  the  hot  and  dusty  hill ! 
Down  the  noisy  stream  tumbled  and  rolled,  first  a 
dead  dog,  then  a  cat,  and  lastly  the  skeleton  of  a 
wretched  ox,  which  had  died  on  the  road  of  hunger 
and  thirst  a  few  days  before,  been  skinned  where  it 
lay,  and  its  miserable  carcass  left  for  the  dogs,  after 
the  horrid  fashion  of  this  place. 

We  soon  turned  to  our  other  windows,  overlook 
ing  the  garden.  The  poor  roses,  all  in  their  fullest 
beauty,  are  sadly  spoiled,  and  many  bunches  of 
orange-flowers  lie  strewn  on  the  ground.  The  passion 
flower  over  the  arbor  and  wall  (a  few  hours  ago  cov- 

(386) 


THUNDER-STORM.  387 

ered  with  fine  buds  and  flowers)  is  a  little  torn,  but 
the  great  aloes  look  very  fine  and  fresh,  after  such 
a  gigantic  shower-bath.  Poor  little  Simione,  the 
Armenian,  will  be  busy  in  his  garden  to-morrow  I 

What  a  night  it  must  be  in  the  Black  Sea!  the 
storm  has  evidently  come  down  from  thence.  It  is 
now  nearly  dark,  but  violet-colored  lightning  illu 
mines  the  whole  of  the  valley  and  the  hills  beyond. 
Then  comes  the  thunder,  crashing  and  echoing  from 
hill  to  hill,  far  away  on  the  Asian  side.  Our  little 
wooden  house  quite  shakes  and  trembles  beneath  the 
storm,  but  they  say  that  lightning  is  not  so  dangerous 
here  as  it  is  in  England.  Another  prolonged  flash ! 
and  the  houses  in  the  valley  beneath,  the  minarets, 
the  dark  Bosphorus  with  shipping  here  and  there, 
the  villages  and  mosques  on  the  opposite  banks,  are 
lighted  up  with  a  stream  of  colored  light.  The  effect 
is  most  beautiful.  The  large  fig-tree  by  my  window 
rustles  in  the  heavy  gusts  of  wind.  Our  muslin  cur 
tains  wave  ghostily  to  and  fro.  The  mice  shriek,  and 
run  frantically  round  (or  between)  our  wooden  roof. 
My  poor  canaries  wake  up,  and  flutter  about  their 
cage  with  fright.  The  wild  dogs  howl  in  the  most 
dismal  manner.  There  is  not  a  light  to  be  seen  in 
the  Turkish  camp  opposite,  nor  further  on  at  Kula- 
lee,  where  the  music  of  the  German  Legion  usually 
enlivens  the  banks  in  an  evening.  I  wonder  how  their 
thin  tents  have  borne  the  tremendous  gusts  of  wind 
and  torrents  of  rain. 

This  is  the  first  summer  storm  I  have  seen  on  the 
Bosphorus,  but  we  had  many  as  violent  in  the  autumn 
last  year.  The  huge  black  clouds  are  now  sailing 
slowly  down  toward  Stamboul,  and  the  worst  of  the 


888  IN   AND  ABOUND   STAMBOUL. 

storm  has  broken  just  over  our  heads.  We  can  count 
several  seconds  between  the  blaze  of  violet-colored 
lightning  and  the  crash  of  thunder,  which  shows  that 
the  storm -fiend  is  passing  on  to  the  tall  minarets  of 
Constantinople.  The  rain  still  pours  down  in  tor 
rents,  and  the  large  cypress-trees  on  the  hillside  sway 
to  and  fro  in  the  hurricane  of  wind  which  comes 
with  a  shrieking  sound  down  from  the  north.  We 
are  all  looking  anxiously  at  each  other,  hoping  that 
our  ships  in  the  Black  Sea  may  ride  out  the  storrn 
in  safety. 

June  llth,  Wednesday  evening. 

It  has  rained  with  little  intermission  all  day.  Sev 
eral  large  ships  have  passed  by  from  the  Black  Sea, 
crowded  with  troops.  Poor  fellows,  what  a  time  they 
must  have  had !  I  noticed  that  only  one  ship  had  an 
awning,  and  that  just  at  the  stern  of  the  vessel.  All 
on  deck  looked  drenched,  cold,  and  miserable,  cluster 
ing  at  the  sides  of  the  ship,  and  no  doubt  longing  for 
the  shelter  of  a  roof.  However,  they  are  going  home, 
to  forget  all  the  sufferings  of  war. 

I  was  sadly  disappointed  yesterday,  on  hearing  that 
the  mail  had  arrived,  but  no  courier,  who,  owing  to 
one  of  the  railways  in  France  being  out  of  order, 
had  missed  the  ship  at  Marseilles.  Edmund  is  quite 
well  again.  Vassili  and  I  had  contrived  a  shower- 
bath,  which  has  done  him  great  good  ?  Every  day  I 
hope  to  hear  something  about  the  Commission  being 
finished,  but  Edmund  has  some  cases  to  settle  for  the 
commissariat,  which  takes  up  much  of  his  time;  for 
many  weeks  he  has  never  had  a  moment  to  himself, 
and  sits  up  terribly  late.  But  I  must  say  good-night, 
with  dearest  love  to  Ediebelle  ! 


LETTEE    XLYII. 

EDUCATION    OP     TURKISH    WOMEN — REARING     OF    CHILDREN — WANT    OP 

INSTRUCTION — BOOKS — THOUGHTS    OF   HOME — THE     CLIMATE RELICS 

FROM   THE   CRIMEA. 

Constantinople,  June  26th,  1856. 

My  dear  Mrs.  Austin : 

We  have  a  most  valuable  and  agreeable  ac 
quaintance  here  in  Admiral  Slade;  he  is  an  En 
glishman,  in  the  Turkish  service,  has  done  much  for 
their  Navy,  and  has  resided  at  Constantinople  for  sev 
eral  years.  He  has  also  traveled  in  the  provinces, 
speaks  both  Turkish  and  Greek  perfectly  well,  and 
has  written  a  very  clever  and  pleasant  book  about 
Turkey.  His  name  among  the  Turks  is  "  Muschaver 
Pasha." 

1  believe  he  is  considered  rather  an  eccentric  man 
by  the  English,  since  he  infinitely  prefers  the  ease  and 
freedom  of  an  Eastern  life,  to  the  rigid  convention 
alisms  of  London  and  Paris.  Spite  of  all  that  he 
laments  in  their  executive  and  government,  he  tho 
roughly  loves  the  Turks  as  a  people,  and,  I  should 
think,  thoroughly  understands  them.  We  had  a  long 
chat  about  the  women  the  other  day,  and  agreed  that, 
pretty,  gentle,  and  intelligent  as  they  generally  are, 
their  ignorance  would  be  in  the  highest  degree  ludic 
rous,  were  it  not  so  lamentable. 

Then  the  question  comes,  "  What  can  be  done  ?" 
and  what  I  want  to  ask  your  advice  about  is  this,  my 
dear  Mrs.  Austin.     Admiral  Slade  promises  that,  if  I 
33*  (389) 


390         IN  AND  AROUND  STAMBOUL. 

can  get  a  few  little  books,  of  the  simplest  instruction, 
from  England,  for  these  poor  women,  he  will  under 
take  to  get  them  translated  into  the  Turkish  lan 
guage,  and  given  to  such  of  them  as  can  read.  He 
assures  me  that  there  will  not  be  the  smallest  diffi 
culty  in  their  being  allowed  to  accept  them,  and  sug 
gests,  as  the  most  important  subject  to  begin  with,  a 
few  words  on  the  rearing  of  fine,  healthy  children, 
for  thousands  are  annually  laid  in  their  little  graves 
from  the  ignorance  and  folly  of  the  mothers.  The 
whole  race  may  be  improved  by  the  women  being  told 
that  there  are  such  things  as  digestive  organs,  mus 
cles,  and  nerves,  which  perhaps  not  one  in  five  thou 
sand  have  ever  heard  of.  I  assure  you  that  I  have 
myself  seen  a  baby  at  the  breast  stuffed  with  raw 
chestnuts ;  and  it  is  quite  a  common  thing  to  see 
a  child  with  not  a  single  tooth  through,  gnawing  a 
large  lump  of  cucumber.  The  other  day,  as  I  was 
passing  near  the  mosque  here,  the  Imaum  was  stand 
ing  by  a  fruit-stall,  with  a  most  miserable-looking 
child  of  about  eighteen  months  in  his  arms,  which 
he  was  feeding  with  green  apricots. 

But  these  things  you  may  see  all  day  long,  in  every 
street  in  Constantinople,  besides  many  a  poor  baby 
borne  by  on  its  little  bier — killed  by  an  over-dose 
of  opium,  given  to  keep  it  quiet  if  fractious  from 
teething.  I  am  afraid,  however,  the  English  of  the 
lower  classes  may  blush  at  this  accusation. 

From  the  immense  quantity  of  sweetmeats  given 
here,  mere  babies  have  black  and  decayed  teeth  ;  and 
it  is  by  no  means  uncommon  to  find  boys  and  girls, 
from  seven  to  ten  and  twelve,  with  not  a  single  sound 
one  in  their  heads,  nothing  but  a  mass  of  black  and 


MEAN'S   OF  INSTRUCTION.  391 

broken  stumps,  most  melancholy  and  sickening  to 
see.  The  boys  are  brought  up  in  the  harems,  loung 
ing  with  the  women  on  divans,  until  fourteen  or 
fifteen;  it  is  easy,  therefore,  to  see  the  vast  importance 
of  teaching  the  mothers  how  to  rear  fine  and  healthy 
boys,  to  take  the  place  of  the  present  miserably  ema 
ciated,  listless  race  of  Constantinopolitans. 

I  am  assured  that  the  women  of  this  country  are 
far  before  the  men  in  intelligence,  far  less  prejudiced, 
and  far  more  willing  to  know  and  to  adopt  wiser  and 
better  ways. 

The  fresh  mountain  girls  from  Circassia  and  Georgia, 
who  are  always  coming  in,  are  very  different  in  mind 
and  body  to  the  poor  slave  bred  and  born  in  a  harem 
at  Stamboul.  Their  admiration  of  the  strength  and 
beauty  of  the  English  race  knows  no  bounds,  and  I 
have  no  doubt  that  almost  every  mother  would  be 
thankful  to  be  taught  how  to  rear  such  beings  herself. 

I  am  really  in  great  spirits  about  this  cheerful 
little  ray  of  light  for  the  poor  Turkish  women,  my 
dear  Mrs.  Austin,  at  least  if  you  will  lend  your  head; 
your  heart  I  am  sure  of,  as  every  body  is,  in  a  good 
cause.  Great  caution  will  be  important,  that  our 
books  may  "  creep  and  gang,"  without  rousing  the 
prejudices  or  fears  of  jealous  masters.  Tract-giving 
people  would  stop  the  whole  thing  at  once.  What  is 
wanted  is  all-powerful  common-sense  and  general  in 
formation.  I  think  we  should  soon  get  to  pretty 
moral  and  instructive  stories. 

What  a  different  idea  would  a  Turkish  boy  have 
of  his  mother,  if  he  saw  her  gently  occupied  in  read 
ing  and  teaching  instead  of  sitting  on  a  divan,  slap 
ping  and  quarreling  with  her  slaves  for  want  of 


392  IN   AND  AROUND  STAMBOUL. 

something  to  do,  and  sunk  in  the  most  degrading 
ignorance ! 

The  Sultan's  ladies  have  lately  had  a  translation  of 
the  Arabian  Nights  given  them,  and  a  book  of  love- 
songs.  Other  books  there  are  none,  but  Admiral 
Slade  assures  me  that  they  would  be  eagerly  caught 
up  by  the  few  who  can  read.  As  I  said  before,  he 
undertakes  himself  to  get  them  printed  in  Turkish 
here ;  and  he  is  no  visionary,  but  a  kind-hearted  and 
clever  man,  who  thoroughly  understands  and  knows 
the  people,  and  what  will  answer  with  them.  Here 
then  is  really  something  useful  and  interesting  to  do, 
which  is  frequently  so  great  a  want  in  many  easy 
lives. 

Mrs.  Campbell  once  lent  me  a  very  useful  book, 
called,  I  think,  "  Hints  to  Mothers."  It  was  by  a 
physician,  but  I  believe  there  are  many  such,  from 
which  the  most  important  directions  might  be  ex 
tracted  and  simplified.  In  fact,  the  language  must 
be  as  if  written  for  children  of  seven  years  old.  Of 
course  any  works  prepared  with  this  view  need  not 
be  printed,  as  I  could  easily  get  them  put  into 
Turkish  writing  here,  with  the  aid  of  my  friend  the 
admiral,  who  is  greatly  interested  in  the  affair. 

How  profoundly  you  would  pity  these  poor  de 
graded  women,  when  young,  so  pretty  and  soft  and 
gentle  and  intelligent — but  mere  animals,  though  they 
be  gazelles  or  fawns — and  when  their  first  bloom  and 
vivacity  is  past,  indolent  to  disease,  gluttonous,  spite 
ful  and  hopeless !  Such  they  are  made  by  the  tyranny 
of  their  masters,  when  Nature  has  given  them  every 
thing. 

I  would  help  them  with  all  my  heart,  and  only  wait 


EFFECTS  OF  THE  CLIMATE.         393 

for  you  to  show  me  how,  my  dear  Mrs.  Austin.  I 
hope  to  hear  that  you  are  tolerably  well,  and  enjoying 
your  garden  and  the  green  lanes  and  fresh  heaths  of 
Weybridge.  After  all  this  grand  panoramic  scenery, 
one  longs  for  the  charming  detail  of  England.  A 
hill  looks  lovely  here  at  a  distance,  but  when  you 
get  to  it  there  is  no  fern,  "  or  old  thorn ;"  nothing 
small,  or  pretty  and  refreshing ;  no  roadsides,  no  cot 
tages,  no  little  gardens.  But  in  this  world  one  must 
be  away  from  a  thing  to  prize  it  at  its  full  value. 
I  always  loved  my  home,  but  now  it  seems  a  little 
paradise,  which  it  were  too  much  happiness  to  hope  to 
see  again. 

The  Loan  Commission  is  rapidly  coming  to  an  end, 
and,  I  am  happy  to  say,  satisfactorily ;  only  I  some 
times  fear  for  my  husband's  health,  with  such  anxious 
and  responsible  work,  in  this  exciting  climate,  and 
with  the  excessive  fatigue  of  riding  and  walking  over 
these  crowded  and  sultry  streets.  However,  I  hope 
that  all  will  go  well,  and  that  we  shall  return  to  Wey 
bridge  early  in  September.  This  variable  climate  is 
so  very  trying,  that  I  could  hardly  wish  to  see  my 
dear  Edith  here.  It  is  beginning  to  tell  very  much 
upon  us  both ;  for,  unless  one  leads  the  life  of  a  tor 
toise,  one  always  has  a  certain  amount  of  fever  and 
sleeplessness  as  soon  as  summer  fairly  sets  in.  The 
heat  now,  in  the  middle  of  the  day,  is  frightful. 
Yet  it  is  such  a  strange  climate,  that,  immediately 
after  sunset,  or  even  in  the  shade  during  the  day,  if 
you  were  to  sit  in  the  shady  garden  for  an  hour, 
you  would  most  probably  feel  a  cold  chill  creeping 
over  you. 

The  languor  and  laziness  brought  on  by  the  climate 


394  IN   AND  ABOUND   STAMBOUL. 

have  prevented  my  writing  you  an  account  of  my 
rambles  in  the  Crimea ;  but,  besides  that  it  is  fresh  in 
my  memory,  I  made  notes  in  my  pocket-book  of  all 
I  saw,  and,  if  you  think  the  letter  would  be  worth 
having,  I  will  write  it  soon  with  very  great  pleasure. 
When  we  meet,  I  will  illustrate  it  by  my  collection 
of  dried  flowers,  from  the  different  battle-fields  and 
other  places  of  interest.  I  have  also  brought  snow 
drop  and  Iris  roots  from  Balaklava  and  the  beautiful 
valley  of  Baidar,  shot  and  shell  from  the  Malakoff 
and  Eedan,  a  Eussian  gunner's  shoe  and  hammer, 
which  I  picked  up  in  one  of  those  subterranean  holes 
in  the  Malakoff  in  which  the  besieged  ate  and  slept. 
Those  defenses  were  indeed  marvelous.  We  saw  the 
sun  set  from  them, — the  ruined  city  and  the  sunken 
ships  all  bathed  in  the  purple  and  gold  tints  of  these 
regions.  A  nightingale  was  singing  close  by  the  Ma- 
melon,  on  our  right.  Every  thing  was  peaceful,  and 
all  that  one  had  heard  of  the  dreadful  strife  and 
slaughter  seemed  like  a  dream.  We  then  went  to 
the  Eedan,  and  counted  silently  and  with  great  emo 
tion  those  frightful  four  hundred  feet  of  slope  up 
which  our  poor  soldiers  had  to  fight :  in  fact,  it  was 
not  fighting,  but  entering  a  fiery  pass  of  shot  and 
shell.  An  officer  who  was  there  told  me  that  he  saw 
several  of  our  poor  fellows  dodge  right  and  left  .once 
or  twice  before  they  could  resolve  on  dashing  in. 

But  I  must  not  attempt  to  tell  you  more  now. 
The  ground  is  literally  plowed  up  with  shot  and  shell. 
I  picked  up  a  torn  epaulette,  the  broken  scabbard  of  a 
sword,  and  several  other  sad  remembrances  of  that 
dreadful  day.  A  Eussian  soldier  was  there,  who  in 
sisted  on  shaking  hands  with  me,  and  gave  me  a  little 
cross. 


LETTER    XLVIII. 

THE    PRINCES'    ISLANDS — THE    "EDITH  BELINA" — SIGNOR  GIACOMO— 
CHURCH   ON   THE   ISLAND. 

Prinkipo,  July  6th,  1856. 

My  dear  Mr.  Hornby : 

Here  we  are  in  a  cottage  at  Prinkipo,  which, 
is  the  largest  of  the  Princes'  Islands,  or  the  ' '  Islands 
of  the  Blest."  It  is  just  like  the  Surry  hills,  rising 
out  of  the  sea,  only  with  rocks  and  mountains  all 
around  ;  and  among  fir-trees  are  mixed  fig  and  olive- 
trees,  with  every  here  and  there  a  patch  of  sloping 
vineyard,  the  bright  scarlet  flower  of  the  pomegra 
nate,  and  picturesque  Greek  shepherds  lying  in  the 
shade,  with  goats  and  sheep  browsing  about  them. 
The  view  of  the  coast  and  mountains  opposite  is  very 
fine  ;  Constantinople  in  the  distance,  rising  as  it  were 
out  of  the  blue  sea,  just  like  Venice  out  of  one  of 
Turner's  pictures.  It  is  beyond  all  things  beautiful. 
We  have  just  returned  from  our  evening  walk,  wind 
ing  through  heather,  cistus,  and  arbutus,  down  to  the 
seashore.  The  fir-trees  overhang  the  cliffs,  which  are 
green  almost  to  the  water's  edge.  I  picked  up  several 
pretty  shells  for  Edith. 

Yesterday  we  saw  a  cloud  of  heat  hanging  over 
Constantinople,  where  the  thermometer  was  a  hun 
dred  and  two  degrees.  Here,  in  the  evening,  it  was 
but  eighty-four  in  my  room.  To-day  a  delightful 
breeze  has  sprung  up,  and  the  noise  of  waves  dashing 

(395) 


396  IN  AND   AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

against  the  shore  is  most  pleasant.  We  already  feel 
quite  refreshed,  and  have  been  watching  the  "white 
horses"  hurrying  over  the  sea.  Numerous  island 
caiques,  with  their  white  sails  set,  are  bounding  along. 
I  must  tell  you  that  we  have  got  a  very  nice  caique 
of  our  own  ;  it  is  called  the  "  Edith  Belina."  I  wish 
you  could  see  her  riding  so  gallantly  over  the  waves, 
her  Union-jack  fluttering  merrily  in  the  breeze.  Our 
house  faces  the  sea,  of  course,  and  a  door  at  the 
back  opens  on  to  a  rough  path  just  cut  on  the  moun 
tain.  We  are  up  very  early  in  the  morning,  for  the 
steamer  leaves  before  seven,  and  there  is  no  other 
for  the  rest  of  the  day.  Sometimes  the  Greek  milk 
man  has  not  yet  come  up  from  the  village,  and  then 
it  is  most  amusing  to  see  the  zealous  Apple-blossom, 
with  her  long  plaits  of  hair  unpinned,  running  after 
the  goats  on  the  mountain,  with  a  tin  basin  in  her 
hand ;  she  looks  so  comically  cross  when  the  tire 
some  things  skip  about  as  if  to  plague  her.  They 
are  Signor  Giacomo's  goats,  but  every  thing  which 
belongs  to  Signor  Giacomo — or  "  Jackeymo,"  as  he  is 
almost  universally  called — is  at  the  "  disposizione"  of 
his  tenants. 

Signor  Giacomo  is  a  Maltese — was  a  little  ragged 
sailor-boy,  with  bare  feet,  when  he  first  entered  Con 
stantinople,  as  he  delights  in  telling  every  one.  The 
store  at  Galata,  which  he  arrived  at  by  many  patient 
steps,  has  been  a  mine  of  wealth  to  him,  and  he  now 
owns  all  the  best  land  in  the  island,  and  has  built 
quite  a  little  nest  of  white  terraced  houses.  His  own 
is  a  large  and  pleasant  one,  above  a  garden  of  three 
terraces,  adorned  with  a  multitude  of  white  roses, 


SIGNOR   GIACOMO.  397 

which  strike  the  beholder  at  least  three  miles  off  at 
sea. 

This  we  always  call  "  Giacomo's  delight/'  for  here 
in  the  evening  doth  the  cheerful  and  flourishing 
Maltese  delight  to  sit,  smoking  a  chibouque  with  an 
amber  mouthpiece,  which  a  pasha  might  not  disdain. 
Giacomo,  when  in  his  garden,  arrayed  in  white,  and 
with  a  broad-brimmed  straw  hat,  is  not  unlike  a  small 
and  smiling  Napoleon,  engaged  in  agricultural  pur 
suits  at  St.  Helena, — at  least,  such  representations  as 
I  remember  to  have  seen  in  children's  books.  Signor 
Giacomo  hath  chubby  sun-burnt  children,  too,  almost 
innumerable,  generally  playing  in  the  sand,  but  very 
gayly  arrayed  on  Sundays  and  fete-days.  Madame 
Giacomo  is  a  kind,  unpretending  little  body,  who  en 
joys  life  merrily  enough,  and  wears  plenty  of  dia 
monds  on  occasions  quite  easily.  She  said  so  unaf 
fectedly  the  other  day,  that,  being  extremely  fond  of 
music,  she  had  begged  Giacomo  to  buy  her  an  excel 
lent  barrel-organ,  which  she  thought  better  than  at 
tempting  any  accomplishment  at  her  age;  so,  fre 
quently  of  an  evening,  pleasant  airs  are  wafted  to  my 
window  from  Madame  Giacomo's  little  drawing-room, 
and  I  know  that  she  is  cheerfully  turning  the  handle 
of  her  organ,  to  amuse  herself  or  friends.  Signor 
Giacomo's  hall  is  adorned  with  several  statues,  and 
with  pretty  plants  and  shrubs  in  vases.  All  the  fam 
ily  ironing  is  unpretendingly  done  here,  and  it  is  by 
no  means  an  uncommon  thing  to  see  the  master's 
broad-brimmed  hat  hung  upon  the  head  of  a  Flora, 
plaster  though  it  be,  or  his  gun  (for  Giacomo  is  given 
to  quails,  among  other  good  things),  resting  securely 
against  one  of  the  Graces. 
34 


398  IN  AND   AROUND  STAMBOUL. 

Signer  Giacomo  is  much  liked  and  respected  in  the 
island.  The  French  soldiers  quartered  here  for  some 
time  have  given  him  their  little  wooden  church,  in 
which  they  held  two  Masses  daily.  Signor  Giacomo 
announces  his  intention  of  giving  a  piece  of  land, 
fronting  the  sea,  on  which  to  more  firmly  erect  the 
church,  and  offers  to  be  at  all  the  expense  of  work 
men,  and  to  help  to  keep  a  "  Padre"  when  the  build 
ing  is  finished.  I  asked  what  it  was  to  be  :  he  said, 
"A  Christian  church,"  but  seemed  to  be  perfectly 
indifferent  as  to  whether  a  Koman  Catholic  or  Prot 
estant  minister  should  volunteer  the  cure.  I  liked 
his  look  of  wonder  at  any  one  wishing  to  know  more, 
than  that  it  was  to  be  a  "  Christian  church,  and  free 
to  all." 


LETTEK    XLIX. 

THE  SULTAN'S  BANQUET — TURKISH  ARTIFICERS — THUNDER-STORM — LOira 

DAYS VASSlLl'S    MISBEHAVIOR DOMESTIC    CHANGES. 

Prinkipo,  July  23d,  1856. 

My  dear  Mother : 

Yesterday  the  Sultan's  dinner-party  came  off. 
It  has  been  the  talk  of  Constantinople  for  the  last 
three  weeks.  Famous  cooks  and  waiters,  it  is  said, 
have  been  engaged  from  Paris,  and  the  Sultan  seemed 
determined  to  have  every  thing  quite  perfect,  after  the 
European  fashion.  I  heard,  last  week,  that  the  royal 
mind  was  greatly  troubled  as  to  tha.  number  of  chairs 
of  the  same  pattern  in  the  hall  of  the  palace  of 
Dolma  Batche.  There  were  not  enough,  by  ten,  for 
the  guests  invited  (one  hundred  and  thirty),  and  no 
artificer  was  to  be  found  in  Constantinople,  "  cun 
ning"  enough  to  make  some  more  to  match.  How 
ever,  I  dare  say  every  thing  was  very  splendid,  and 
am  anxiously  expecting  Edmund's  return,  that  he  may 
tell  me  all  about  it. 

I  can  see  the  steamer  coming  in.  The  sky  is  so 
blue  and  clear,  and  the  sea  so  calm,  that  one  can 
distinguish  it,  the  size  of  a  bee,  just  as  it  leaves 
Stamboul.  I  am  anxious  to  know  how  the  guests 
reached  the  palace  yesterday  ;  for,  about  seven  o'clock, 
a  large  thunder-cloud,  which  had  been  hanging  over 
Constantinople  some  time,  burst  with  tremendous 
violence.  Forked  lightning  darted  round  the  mina- 

(899) 


400         IN  AND  AROUND  STAMBOUL. 

rets,  and  every  now  and  then  a  splendid  flash  lighted 
up  the  whole  city.  Then  I  saw  floods  of  rain  fall, 
the  great  black  cloud  stretching  from  sky  to  earth. 
It  was  a  very  grand  but  awful  sight.  Then  the  storm 
moved  slowly  over  the  hills  of  Scutari,  opposite  our 
windows,  and  flash  after  flash  of  beautiful  violet- 
colored  lightning  illumined  the -dreary  coast  and  bare 
mountains. 

The  island  caiques,  with  their  sails  bent,  made  fast 
for  the  shore.  The  sea  here  soon  rose,  and  a  heavy 
shower  splashed  into  the  angry  Avhite  waves;  but 
we  had  no  thunder,  which  I  was  not  sorry  for,  as  it 
shakes  these  wooden  houses  in  a  way  that  is  not 
pleasant.  Mr.  Hall  came  down  very  kindly  by  the 
steamer,  knowing  that  Edmund  was  dining  at  the 
palace. 

It  was  Tuesday/ and  I  grieved  over  not  getting  my 
letters  from  home.  It  is  a  long  day  to  pass  here 
alone :  the  steamer  does  not  get  in  till  seven.  I  have 
been  walking  on  the  beach,  collecting  shells  for  Edie, 
and  drying  a  few  flowers,  and  working  a  little,  but 
one's  days  are  fourteen  hours  long,  and  I  have  no 
books. 

Vassili,  you  will  be  surprised  to  hear,  is  gone  away  : 
he  had  unfortunately  taken  to  drink  raid  at  the  "  Mag 
yar,"  which  did  not  do,  and  I  so  much  alone.  He 
was  dreadfully  sorry  for  being  insolent  one  evening, 
and  hung  about  the  house  for  a  week,  hoping  to 
be  taken  back  again,  as  he  said  to  Apple-blossom; 
but  Edmund  would  not  hear  of  it,  and  Apple-blos 
som's  faithless  husband  is  to  take  the  place  as  soon 
as  the  Sultan's  grand  dinner  is  over,  which  I  suppose 
is  to-day.  He,  Eugenio,  has  been  helping  at  the  pal- 


ARRIVAL   OF  THE   STEAMER.  401 

ace.  Melia,  with  the  exception  of  half-a-dozen  Italian 
words,  only  speaks  Greek,  which  is  not  particularly 
cheerful  for  me ;  but  her  husband  speaks  Italian, 
French,  German,  Turkish,  and  Greek  perfectly  well. 
Our  present  "  footman"  is  a  wild  Greek  of  the  Islands, 
in  blue  trousers  to  the  knee,  bare  brown  legs,  scarlet 
jacket  and  fez. 

The  steamer  is  in,  and  the  "  Edith  Belina"  off  to 
meet  her ;  so  I  shall  stroll  down  to  the  shore  for 
letters  and  news. 

To  my  disappointment  Edmund  is  not  come  back. 
There  is  a  grand  dinner-party  at  the  Embassy  to-day 
to  all  those  invited  by  the  Sultan  yesterday.  I  have 
not  heard  much  about  the  royal  banquet  as  yet,  ex 
cept  that  it  was  magnificent. 

There  was  a  great  fire  at  Pera  last  night,  closing  a 
most  eventful  day. 
34* 


LETTER    L. 

ORDER  OF  THE   MEDJIDI — THE    SULTAN  5S   DINNER-PARTY — THE   PALACE — 
THUNDER-STORM — "  COMMISSARY  JOE  " — VISITORS  FROM    TUB   CRIMEA. 

Prinkipo,  July  23d,  1856. 

My  dear  Mrs.  Hornby : 

You  will  all  be  pleased  to  hear  that  Edmund 
has  received  his  Order  of  the  Medjidi.  It  is  a  hand 
some  silver  star,  with  an  enameled  and  circular  Turk 
ish  inscription  in  the  centre,  surmounted  with  a  small 
enameled  star  and  crescent.  The  ribbon  is  a  rich 
green  and  crimson;  and  the  Sultan's  creation  as  a 
Companion  of  the  Order  is  written  in  extraordinary 
characters,  and  enclosed  in  a  white  satin  bag,  with 
a  silver  tassel.  It  is  a  great  pleasure  to  know  that 
the  Sultan  is  satisfied  with  the  course  which  the 
Commissioners  have  pursued  with  regard  to  the  En 
glish  Loan. 

Last  Thursday  the  Sultan's  grand  dinner-part} 
"came  off"  at  the  new  Palace  of  Dolma  Batche. 
A  tremendous  thunder-storm  burst  over  Constanti 
nople  about  seven  o'clock.  I  sat  at  the  window 
alone,  watching  the  angry  clouds  and  zigzag  light 
ning  over  the  sea,  and  wondering  how  the  unhappy 
guests  would  escape  the  torrents  of  rain  which  made 
one  dense  purple  mass  from  sky  to  earth.  I  should 
have  been  very  glad  at  that  moment  to  know  that 
they  were  all  seated  in  the  magnificent  dining-hall 
of  the  palace  when  the  storm-fiend  arrived  from 
the  Black  Sea— all  but  the  principal  guest,  Sir  E. 
(402) 


THE  SULTAN'S  DINNER-PARTY.  403 

Codrington,  who  found  it  impossible  to  land,  and, 
after  battling  with  the  storm  for  some  time,  was 
obliged  to  drop  anchor  almost  within  sight  of  the 
palace.  He  and  his  brilliant  staff  were  seen  for  a 
moment,  full-dressed,  from  the  shore.  It  must  have 
been  particularly  provoking,  as  the  Sultan  had  al 
ready  put  off  his  dinner  more  than  once,  that  the 
English  Commander-in-chief  might  be  present.  Ed 
mund  was  among  the  fortunate  people  who  rowed  to 
the  beautiful  white-marble  steps  and  gate  of  Dolma 
Batche  with  Lord  Stratford  and  staff,  in  the  mag 
nificent  state  caique.  He  was  charmed  with  the 
palace,  which  they  say  is  like  a  dream  of  the  Arabian 
Nights.  Some  people  assert — critics  do — that  in 
detail  it  is  imperfect ;  but  the  effect  produced  on  the 
mind  is  wonderful,  and  a  guest  has  neither  time  nor 
opportunity  to  examine  the  perfectness  of  the  gilding, 
or  the  framework  of  the  windows,  or  the  polish  of 
the  marble  columns  and  fountains.  Ordinary  mortals 
come  home,  as  I  say,  enchanted — nothing  more  nor 
less — and  can  scarcely  believe  afterward  that  they 
have  not  visited  such  a  palace  of  Haroun-al-Easchid 
as  Tennyson  so  splendidly  describes ;  only  the  "  se 
rene  and  argent-lidded"  Persian  girl  is  not  to  be  seen. 
However,  critics,  unhappy  mortals !  say  that  it  is  not 
"  well-finished,"  go  prying  about  in  search  of  faults, 
and  lose  the  beautiful  idea  and  dreamlike  effect  alto 
gether.  Nothing  can  be  more  lovely  than  the  shadow 
of  this  snow-white  palace  reflected  in  the  dark  blue 
waters  of  the  Bosphorus. 

But  to  return  to  the  dinner.  The  company  were 
received  by  the  Minister  of  Foreign  Affairs,  Fuad 
Pasha,  and  by  Aali  Pasha,  the  Grand  Vizier.  They 


404:  IIST  AND   ABOUND   STAMBOUL. 

were  conducted  through  a  white-marble  hall  to  a 
simple  but  elegant  apartment,  the  roof  of  which  was 
supported  by  plain  white  marble  columns.  There, 
on  a  divan,  sat  the  Sultan,  in  his  usual  military 
frockcoat  and  fez,  his  collar,  cuffs,  and  sword  covered 
with  brilliants,  and  his  majesty  himself  looking  par 
ticularly  shy  and  uncomfortable,  as  he  generally  does 
before  strangers.  He  rose ;  Lord  Stratford  presented 
the  English  guests,  and  M.  de  Thouvenel  the  French. 
The  Sultan  had  a  few  kind  words  to  say  for  most, 
and  plenty  of  smiles  and  bows,  when  he  began  to 
feel  more  at  his  ease.  The  dragoman,  Count  Stefano 
Piasani,  translated  courtly  speeches  in  the  most  courtly 
manner,  with  many  a  pretty  turn  about  "  alliances," 
etc.,  between  England,  France,  and  Turkey.  All  this 
over,  more  bows  and  smiles  from  the  Sultan,  and  the 
company  were  led  out,  in  the  most  gentle  and  courtly 
manner,  by  the  Grand  Yizier  and  Fuad  Pasha,  and 
conducted  to  the  great  white  marble  hall,  where  a 
magnificent  banquet  was  spread,  with  vases  of  flowers, 
centrepieces,  and  gold  and  silver  plate,  after  the  En 
glish  and  French  fashion  of  a  grand  dinner.  The 
chandelier  in  the  middle  of  the  hall  is  of  great  size 
and  beauty,  and  cost  an  immense  sum  of  money. 
The  Sultan  is  very  proud  of  it ;  it  burns  four  hundred 
jets  of  gas.  About  two  hundred  wax  candles  illumi 
nated  the  lovely  Eastern  flowers  and  other  ornaments 
of  the  table. 

The  hall,  which  has  a  lofty  and  glittering  dome  of 
glass,  was  lined  with  a  guard  of  Turkish  soldiers 
in  their  picturesque  costume  of  the  old  Sultan's 
Guard,  now  never  seen.  I  heard  that  the  effect  of 
their  dress  and  plumes  was  quite  spoiled  by  their 


THE  SULTAN'S  DINNER-PARTY.  405 

slouching  and  dejected  appearance,  and  unsoldierly 
bearing. 

The  dinner  was  profuse  in  number  and  variety  of 
the  dishes,  but  cold  and  ill- served,  the  European 
waiters  evidently  not  well  understanding  their  work. 
It  was  tediously  long,  for,  interspersed  with  the 
French  dishes,  came  Turkish  ones  of  all  sorts,  to 
please  the  pashas  (including  pilauf )  ;  and  the  pashas 
did  eat  of  every  thing,  to  the  wonder  and  amazement 
of  all  around.  The  Sultan's  band  was  posted  at  one 
end  of  the  hall ;  but,  after  playing  one  or  two  airs, 
the  musicians  grew  frightened  at  the  storm,  which 
now  crashed  with  great  fury  just  over  the  palace,  and 
ran  away.  These  valiant  men  left  a  large  door  open 
in  their  flight,  which,  producing  a  tremendous 
draught,  half  the  lights  were  blown  out,  so  that  the 
end  of  this  splendid  entertainment  was  not  as  well 
lighted  as  could  be  wished ;  indeed,  the  rare  dessert 
was  demolished  almost  in  the  dark  by  Turk  and 
Christian. 

Many  were  greatly  struck  and  impressed  with  the 
grandeur  and  solemnity  of  the  scene,  as  peal  after  peal 
of  thunder  crashed  over  the  dome  of  the  palace,  "  so 
lightly,  beautifully  built,"  and  vivid  flashes  of  light 
ning  played  on  the  glittering  array  of  Christian 
guests — the  first  whom  the  world  ever  saw  assembled 
in  the  palace  of  a  Sultan.  Some  of  the  Turkish  dig 
nitaries  looked  gloomy  and  terrified,  no  doubt  think 
ing  that  the  wrath  of  Heaven  had  fallen  on  them  as  a 
punishment  for  eating  with  "  infidels."  To  Christian 
fancy,  it  only  wanted  "the  writing  on  the  wall,"  to  be 
read  as  a  warning  to  the  corrupt  and  fallen  Moslem 
Empire. 


406  IN   AND   AROUND  STAMBOUL. 

I  had  almost  forgotten  to  tell  you  that  it  is  not 
etiquette  for  the  Sultan  to  dine  with  any  one,  so  I 
suppose  his  majesty  moped  on  a  corner  of  his  sofa,  or 
condescended  to  peep  through  the  lattice-work  of  the 
women's  gallery,  while  the  feast  went  on.  The  latter 
proceeding  I  should  think  most  probable,  considering 
the  interest  which  he  had  taken  for  some  weeks  in 
watching  even  the  smallest  minutise  of  the  prepara 
tions.  The  French,  English,  Sardinian,  Prussian,  and 
Austrian  uniforms,  and  various  Stars  and  Orders, 
made  a  goodly  show,  as  you  may  suppose.  Omar 
Pasha  was  among  the  Turkish  generals.  The  dinner 
was  over  by  half-past  nine.  The  next  day  Lord 
Stratford  gave  a  grand  military  dinner  at  Pera.  Lord 
Lyons,  Sir  Edward  Codrington,  and  the  principal 
Sardinian  and  French  officers  were  there. 

Edmund  returned  to  the  Islands  on  Saturday  even 
ing,  glad  to  get  a  quiet  walk  after  much  hard  work, 
and  the  glitter  and  fatigue.  The  heat  at  Pera  has 
been  frightful,  and  almost  every  resident  there  is  ill, 
so  I  cannot  help  congratulating  ourselves  on  being 
here  in  sweet  and  fresh  air.  Every  now  and  then 
"the  commissioner"  gets  a  holiday,  when,  after  two 
or  three  hours'  writing,  we  go  out  fishing  among  the 
rocks,  or  sail  in  the  "  Edith  Belina"  to  the  coast  of 
Asia,  land,  and  take  a  long  ramble  in  some  ancient 
and  solitary  village  at  the  foot  of  the  mountains. 

Herbert  Siborne  left  us  this  day  week,  having  spent 
a  couple  of  days  with  us  here.  He  looks  pale  and 
thin  from  hard  work  and  anxiety  about  his  men  and 
horses.  I  do  not  think  this  climate  agreed  with  him. 
Scutari  is  frightfully  hot,  and  he  seems  delighted  at 
the  idea  of  getting  back  to  England.  He  has  with 


COMMISSAKY  JOE.  407 

him  Edmund's  horse  and  dog,  Sultan  and  Arslan,  and 
all  my  valued  relics  and  remembrances  of  the  Crimea. 
About  ten  days  ago,  who--  should  find  us  out  one 
evening  but  the  celebrated  hero  of  Kertch,  named 
by  an  admiring  army  "  Commissary  Joe."  He  had 
had  a  severe  attack  of  illness ;  we  have  nursed  him, 
and  he  is  now  in  a  most  jovial  and  flourishing  con 
dition,  just  the  man  to  have  with  one  in  a  strange 
land.  He  makes  bargains  for  me  in  true  military 
style,  knocks  refractory  Greeks  on  the  head,  calls 
us  up  at  five  in  the  morning  for  our  health's  sake, 
making  noise  enough  to  wake  the  dead,  goes  into 
the  sea,  and  splashes  about  with  the  enjoyment  of  a 
dolphin,  does  all  sorts  of  housekeeping  commissions 
for  me  at  Pera,  and  copies  Eeports  on  a  most  gigantic 
scale  of  handwriting  when  "  the  commissioner"  is 
hard  pressed.  He  goes  down  to  the  village  every 
evening  to  look  at  the  Greek  and  Armenian  ladies, 
who  sit  at  the  "  Magyar"  in  rows,  to  chat,  drink  coffee, 
flirt,  and  smoke  cigarettes.  There  was  a  great  show 
of  beauty  the  other  evening,  and  he  begged  me  to 
"take  up  a  strong  position,"  where  we  could  see  them 
all  to  advantage.  Presently  he  gave  some  ponderous 
sighs,  declared  that  he  "  couldn't  kill  a  fly,"  and  that 
he  was  quite  overcome  by  pretty  hats  and  dark-eyed 
beauties,  not  having  been  accustomed  to  such  dazzling 
things  at  Kertch.  However,  bitter  ale  consoles  him 
for  every  thing,  and  he  is  now  fast  asleep  in  the  vine 
yard,  with  an  immense  cigar  nodding  and  jerking 
about  in  the  corner  of  his  mouth,  and  looking  very 
much  like  an  overgrown  cherub  in  a  jacket  and  forag- 
ing-cap.  His  arithmetical,  commissariat,  and  mercan 
tile  knowledge  is  so  useful  to  Edmund  just  now,  that 


408  IN   AND  ABOUND   STAMBOUL. 

Commissary-general  Smith  agrees  to  let  him  stay  with 
us  on  full  pay  as  long  as  the  Commission  lasts,  which 
I  am  very  glad  of,  bof;h  for  the  usefulness  to  his 
country,  enjoyment  to  himself,  and  for  his  kind  and 
cheerful  company.  He  is  greatly  liked  and  highly 
spoken  of,  both  by  his  colleagues  and  by  the  com 
missariat  powers  here,  although  that  is  generally  no 
great  praise. 

How  glad  I  shall  be  to  get  home  I  cannot  say. 
Edmund  almost  wished  me  to  return  by  the  "  Hima 
laya"  last  week ;  but  I  could  not  make  up  my  mind 
to  leave  him.  In  no  country,  it  seems  to  me,  is  a  com 
fortable  home  so  necessary  as  in  this,  and  constant 
care  too,  about  good  and  fresh  food,  clean  linen,  and 
a  clean  house.  As  it  is,  I  think  we  have  every  pos 
sible  comfort  in  the  way  of  cleanliness — for  Cristo 
"  scratches"  the  floors  most  industriously — wholesome 
food,  excellent  dinners,  and  delicious  tea.  Many  a 
wandering  officer  drops  in  at  seven  o'clock,  and  we 
have  often  more  visitors  than  chairs  and  plates.  I 
hear  that  we  are  loudly  lamented  at  Orta-kioy,  and 
many  have  found  us  out  here.  Edmund  seldom 
comes  home  without  somebody,  and  company  from 
the  Crimea  give  no  trouble,  a  sheet  and  pillow  thrown 
down  upon  the  hard  divan  being  considered  a  luxury ; 
so  they  are  certain  of  a  warm  welcome  from  "  Apple- 
blossom."  We  have  often  two  or  three  such  encamp 
ments,  especially  on  a  Saturday  night ;  and  many  a 
tale  of  the  war  is  told,  and  we  talk  of  what  we  hope 
to  do  some  day  in  old  England.  But  I  must  bring 
this  epistle  to  an  end,  with  my  best  love  to  all.  From 
day  to  day  we  hope  to  know  the  time  of  our  return 
from  these  Moslem  lands. 


LETTEE    LI. 

JONVENT   OF    JE3U    CHRISTO — FISHING    EXCURSION  —  BATHING-HOUSES — 
EARLY    RISING ISLAND    OF    HALKI. 

Prinkipo,  Sunday,  July  27th. 

My  dear  Sister : 

I  sit  down  to  write  you  a  few  lines  after  a  rather 
tiring  day.  "We  have  had  a  long  walk  over  the  moun 
tain-path  by  the  sea,  returning  by  the  old  convent  of 
Jesu  Christo,  and  its  gray  rocks  and  fir-trees.  The 
monk  was  at  home,  and  as  Mr.  Sanderson,  the  Consul 
of  Broussa,  who  speaks  Greek,  was  with  us,  we  had  a 
long  chat  with  the  gray -bearded  recluse — such  a  plea 
sant,  kind  old  man,  a  singularly  good  specimen  of  a 
Greek  priest.  He  told  us  that  he  had  made  the  ac 
quaintance  of  two  English  officers  who  have  been  stay 
ing  here,  and  seemed  to  regret  being  left  to  his  usual 
dreary  and  uneventful  life,  now  that  the  war  is  over 
and  all  are  taking  their  departure.  He  said  that  the 
conversation  of  his  military  acquaintance,  and  their 
descriptions  of  that  world  which  he  had  never  seen, 
was  so  instructive  and  pleasant.  One  of  his  friends 
was  a  Colonel  Dickson  of  the  Artillery,  and  we  prom 
ised  to  give  his  love  and  greeting  if  we  ever  met  the 
Colonel  in  England  on  our  return.  We  went  into  the 
chapel — built,  they  say,  by  the  Emperor  Theodosius. 
It  looked  quaint  and  dim  and  ancient  as  usual.  Sev 
eral  Greek  ladies  were  offering  lighted  tapers  before 
the  picture  of  a  "  gloried"  saint. 

We  aftenvard  turned  over  the  illuminated  parch- 
35  (409) 


410  IN   AND   AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

ment  leaves  of  Scriptures  six  or  eight  hundred  years 
old,  and  the  chapel  possesses  some  even  older,  which  I 
hope  one  day  to  see.  The  monk  gave  us  a  glass  of  de 
licious  spring- water  and  some  preserved  cherries.  He 
seems  to  have  nothing  to  do  in  his  garden  just  now : 
he  was  very  busy  in  it  in  the  spring,  but  now  the 
weather  is  hot,  and  he  seems  to  give  himself  up  to 
gayety ;  smoking,  with  great  enjoyment  of  the  glorious 
view  before  him,  receiving  visitors  in  the  little  ruined 
court-yard,  and  hearing  news  of  the  great  world  when 
ever  he  meets  with  any  one  who  speaks  Greek.  Miss 
Barker  is  coming  to  see  me  on  Friday,  and  then  hav 
ing  an  interpreter,  I  propose  paying  many  a  visit  to 
"  Jesu  Christo"  and  its  solitary  graybeard,  and  finding 
out  all  about  the  ancient  chapel  and  old  paintings  and 
crosses  and  tombs. 

There  is  another  monastery  on  the  island,  St.  Gior 
gio,  and  there  lies  buried  the  Empress  Irene  (of  By 
zantium,  opposite),  who  was  banished  to  Prinkipo, 
where,  in  the  days  of  her  greatness,  she  had  built  the 
convent. 

We  went  out  fishing  the  other  day  in  the  "  Edith 
Belina,"  Colonel  Hinde  sailing  along  in  his  caique  close 
to  us.  Yanko  and  Pandelij  are  so  proud  of  our  Union 
Jack,  which  flutters  gayly  in  the  breeze.  We  sailed 
nearly  round  this  island,  and  soon  came  to  another, 
with  only  one  house  upon  it,  where  dwell  the  poor 
family  who  tend  the  olive-garden  and  vineyard.  By 
the  side  of  their  hut  is  a  huge  white  marble  sarco 
phagus,  with  two  Greek  crosses  carved  on  it ;  it  is  said 
to  be  that  of  one  of  the  Byzantine  princes,  who  was 
banished  here  in  the  time  of  the  Greek  Empire.  The 
good  old  Turk  keeps  his  onions  in  it ;  and,  as  he 


FISHING.  EXCURSION.  411 

munclied  his  brown  bread,  seemed  to  wonder  why  we 
thought  it  curious. 

We  then  went  to  fish  on  a  magnificent  group  of 
rocks.  Our  caiques  were  moored  close  by,  the  cush 
ions  brought  out,  and  a  curious  group  soon  made, 
which  we  said  we  should  like  to  have  photographed 
for  you  all  in  England — Edmund  with  a  large  beard 
and  mustache  and  Arab  white  cloak,  gun  in  hand, 
perched  upon  a  rock ;  I  sitting  leaning  back  on  one, 
with  my  feet  dangling  over  the  waves,  and  Colonel 
Hinde,  in  picturesque  costume,  pointing  out  to  me  the 
swarms  of  fish  and  many-tinted  sea- weed  in  the  clear 
water  below ;  the  caiques,  with  their  white  sails  furled, 
at  a  little  distance,  and  the  Greek  boatmen  in  their 
bright  dresses,  some  sleeping,  and  others  waiting  upon 
us,  and  climbing  backward  and  forward  over  the 
rocks ;  Mount  Olympus,  crowned  with  snow,  in  the 
distance ;  opposite,  the  grand  coast  of  Asia ;  islands 
here  and  there  rising  out  of  the  blue  water.  "  Com 
missary  Joe,"  dozing  on  cushions  in  the  u  Edith  Be- 
lina,"  called  out,  "  It's  Paradise,  only  a  little  hotter." 
However,  whether  like  Paradise  or  not,  wherever  we 
go,  that  worthy  never  moves  without  a  good  stock  of 
Bass's  pale  ale  in  the  caique.  Colonel  Hinde's  men 
dredged  for  oysters,  and  with  the  contents  of  Apple- 
blossom's  basket  we  made  an  excellent  luncheon. 

I  am  quite  well  and  strong  again ;  the  sea-bathing 
has  set  me  up.  No  doubt  the  great  heat  made  me 
feel  so  low  and  weak.  There  is  much  illness  at 
Pera,  but,  though  hot  in  the  middle  of  the  day,  the 
air  is  always  fresh  and  lovely  here.  Signer  Giacomo 
has  built  me  a  bathing-house  in  our  little  bay,  nailed 
to  the  few  rough  boards  which  make  the  tiny  pier. 


4:12  IN   AND   AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

Here  lies  the  "  Edith  Belina "  at  anchor,  and  it  is 
such  a  quiet  place  that  seldom  any  other  caique 
enters  it,  except  a  fishing-boat  now  and  then  on  a 
rough  day.  The  bathing-house  is  roofed  over  with 
branches  of  fir  with  beautiful  cones,  and  the  water 
looks  so  pretty  with  their  reflection  waving  over  the 
golden  sands  and  seaweed  underneath.  All  round  is 
a  place  to  stand  and  dress  on,  and  I  have  had  nails 
put  up  for  my  clothes,  a  cushion  to  sit  on,  and  a 
shelf  for  my  book.  It  is  such  a  pretty  Robinson  - 
Crusoelike  house  I  and  I  often  wish  Edith  could  see 
it.  I  had  such  a  laugh,  tell  her,  the  other  day.  I 
happened  to  say  to  the  Greek  who  made  it,  that  I 
was  sorry  there  was  no  door  seaward,  so  that  I  could 
swim  out  on  the  sands  on  quiet  mornings.  I  sup 
pose  that  he  mentioned  this  to  Giacomo,  for  the 
next  day  there  was  a  little  dog's  hole,  or  beaver's 
hole,  cut  for  me  to  get  out  of,  and  you  cannot  think 
how  funny  my  house  looks  now.  I  used  to  dive 
underneath  before.  You  would  be  amused  to  see 
me  sitting  at  my  door,  with  only  my  head  out  of 
water,  and  a  great  piece  of  seaweed  fastened  on  the 
top  of  my  comb  to  keep  off'  the  sun,  hanging  becom 
ingly  down  my  face.  I  believe  that  any  English 
sailor  passing  by  would  try  to  catch  me  as  a  fine 
specimen  of  mermaid,  so  pray  look  at  any  such  crea 
ture  attentively  whom  you  may  be  invited  to  see  "for 
sixpence." 

This  island  life  is  really  delightful,  especially  since 
some  rather  stormy  weather  has  set  in.  It  is  very  hot, 
but  about  eleven  in  the  morning  a  strong  wind  has 
begun  to  blow  every  day  from  the  north,  which  soon 
makes  a  rough  sea,  the  very  sound  of  which  is  refresh- 


ISLAND   OF    HALKI.  413 

ing,  after  the  still,  quiet  sultriness  of  Constantinople. 
Rising  as  early  as  we  do  here,  too,  is  another  way  of 
making  the  best  of  the  climate.  I  am  often  dressed, 
having  bathed  in  the  sea,  by  five  in  the  morning,  but 
at  any  rate  am  almost  always  up  by  that  time,  when  it 
is  cool  and  most  pleasant.  It  is  a  beautiful  sight  to 
watch  the  snow-white  mist,  tipped  here  and  there  with 
rose-color,  roll  slowly  over  the  mountains  of  the  Asian 
coast  opposite ;  and  then,  turning  your  eyes  seaward, 
in  the  far  distance  to  track  huge  ships,  dimly  seen  in 
the  morning  mist,  slowly  moving  down  the  Sea  of 
Marmora.  Then,  as  the  sun  gleams  out  brighter,  it 
gradually  reveals  to  you,  bit  by  bit,  in  a  gold  and 
violet  light,  the  cliffs  of  Scutari,  and  the  minarets  and 
cypresses  and  cupolas  of  Stamboul,  far  away,  like  a 
dream,  rising  out  of  the  blue  water.  To  the  left,  in 
the  foreground,  is  the  lovely  island  of  Halki;  it  is 
three-hilled,  and  forms  a  beautifully  undulating  line, 
the  valley  dipping  down  so  low  that  you  can  see  the 
sea  on  the  other  side.  On  the  highest  hill,  and  over 
hanging  the  sea,  is  a  fine  old  monastery ;  the  bell  ring 
ing  for  morning  prayer  floats  sweetly  over  the  sea,  to 
where  I  sit  at  my  window.  In  the  valley  below  is  a 
magnificent  avenue  of  cypress-trees.  The  houses  lie 
principally  in  the  hollow,  clustering  thickly  down  to 
the  water's  edge,  where  countless  caiques  and  large 
Greek  sailing-boats  are  moored,  and  where  the  island 
ers  are  sipping  and  smoking  in  the  little  water-palace 
cafanees  all  the  day  long. 

Olive-gardens  and  vineyards  are  dotted  about  here 
and  there  over  the  hillside.  But  I  must  write  one  of 
my  long  letters  soon  to  give  you  a  good  idea  of  these 
islands,  and  of  the  summer  gala-days  of  the  Greeks. 


LETTEK    LIT. 

ERECTION   OF    A   CHURCH    IN    PRINKIPO — MONASTERY   OF   HALKI — GREEK 

CHURCHES A    GREEK    WEDDING BISHOPS — THE  PATRIARCH AVENUE 

OF    CYPRESSES    ILLUMINATED RETURN    HOME. 

Prinkipo,  August  10th,  1856. 

My  dearest  Mother: 

Sunday  was  a  proud  and  happy  day  for  Signor 
Giacomo,  who,  as  I  told  you,  laid  the  first  stone  of  the 
little  wooden  church  left  as  a  parting  present  to  him 
by  the  French  troops.  He  invited  a  large  party  of 
friends  and  neighbors,  his  children  were  dressed  in 
their  best,  and  Madame  Giacomo's  organ  was  grind 
ing  away  at  merry  tunes  all  day  long.  At  five  o'clock 
Giacomo  came  in  to  say  that  they  waited  for  us  to 
assist  at  the  ceremony.  On  the  terraced  walls  of  the 
garden  before  the  spot  where  the  church  is  to  stand, 
waved  the  flags  of  England,  France,  Sardinia,  and 
Turkey.  It  was  a  proud  moment  for  Signor  Giacomo, 
when  he  handed  the  venerable  old  Catholic  priest  off 
his  donkey,  and  led  him  through  the  vineyard  to  a 
round  wooden  cross,  stuck  among  the  wild  heath  and 
cistus,  which  marked  the  proposed  altar- site  of  the 
church.  Here  the  reverend  gentleman  read  the  Latin 
service  of  the  Church  of  Eome,  assisted  by  a  lay 
brother  and  several  wild-looking  Croats,  no  doubt  re 
cent  converts,  who  stood  with  their  fezzes  off  and  their 
wild  locks  waving  in  the  wind. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Cumberbatch  were  there,  an  English 
officer,  and  more  than  a  hundred  Greeks,  including 

(414) 


A   CHUKCH   IN   PKINKIPO.  415 

visitors  and  the  islanders  themselves.  It  was  a  beau 
tiful  and  impressive  scene.  Here,  among  thousands 
of  Mohammedans  and  wild  sects  innumerable,  the 
name  of  Christian  alone  is  a  tie  very  different  to  that 
which  one  feels  it  to  be  in  England.  Delighted  to  see 
the  cross  raised,  and  simple  words  of  peace  and  love 
spoken  within  sight  of  the  mountains  of  Asia  and  the 
minarets  of  Stamboul,  I  should  have  been  quite 
startled  at  that  moment  to  remember  the  bitter  feeling 
existing  in  England  between  Koman  Catholic  and 
Protestant,  High  Church  and  Low  Church. 

The  cross  was  marked  with  the  name  of  the  regi 
ment  to  which  it  had  belonged :  no  doubt  it  had  com 
forted  many  a  sick  and  wounded  soldier.  I  thought, 
what  a  picture  it  would  make,  backed  by  the  arbutus- 
covered  mountain,  the  venerable  old  priest  reading 
beside  it,  and  the  wild-looking  Croats  regarding  him 
with  a  kind  of  savage  worship. 

At  the  conclusion  of  the  service,  Signor  Giacomo 
spoke  a  few  impressive  and  eloquent  words  in  Italian. 
So  simple  was  this  little  oration,  that  I  much  regret 
not  remembering  every  word  of  it.  I  confess  that 
I  had  expected  a  speech  of  a  somewhat  different  char 
acter,  not  giving  the  little  man  credit  for  so  much 
good  taste,  and  thinking  that  the  temptation  to  seize 
such  an  opportunity  for  self-laudation  would  be  too 
strong  to  be  resisted.  Nothing  however  could  have 
been  better.  All  was  said  that  ought  to  be  said,  and 
in  an  excellent  spirit.  All  praise  to  Signor  Giacomo 
for  the  good  feeling  which  prompted  him  ! 

And  now  every  body  was  invited  into  Mr.  Giacomo's 
terraced  garden,  to  rest  in  the  shade  of  his  waving 
acacias,  and  partake  of  coffee  and  sweetmeats.  We 


4:16  IN   AND   ABOUND   STAMBOUL. 

were  however  obliged  to  forego  this  hospitality,  for  our 
caique  was  waiting  to  take  us  to  a  Greek  wedding  at 
the  monastery  at  Halki,  which  I  was  anxious  to  see. 
So  down  our  party  rushed  to  the  shore,  for,  as  it  was, 
Dr.  Baretta  (the  bride's  friend)  feared  we  were  late. 
The  sun  had  just  dipped  into  the  Sea  of  Marmora 
behind  Halki,  as  Madame  Baretta,  her  pretty  daughter, 
and  myself,  took  our  seats  in  the  "Edith  Belina." 
There  was  a  fresh  breeze,  so  the  caiquejees  hoisted  her 
sails,  and  we  dashed  swiftly  on  through  the  sparkling 
waters  to  the  wedding.  The  dear  little  "  Edith  Be 
lina"  carries  her  Union  Jack  gallantly.  A  strange 
sail  passing  by  saluted  her  most  deferentially,  and  I 
felt  for  her  a  sort  of  pride  while  teaching  Yanco,  our 
first  caiquejee,  how  to  return  the  compliment. 

We  soon  reached  Halki,  landed  at  its  tiny  wooden 
pier,  passed  through  groups  of  sleepers  and  smokers 
on  the  benches  of  the  little  sea  cafe,  through  the  silent 
and  narrow  streets  of  the  village,  to  the  magnificent 
avenue  of  cypress-trees  which  leads  up  to  the  monas 
tery.  It  was  impossible  to  help  pausing  a  moment 
before  the  ancient  gateway  of  the  court-yard  to  ad 
mire  the  lovely  view.  The  cicalas  were  still  singing 
about  the  heat,  and  the  distant  snows  of  Mount  Olym 
pus  were  delicious  to  the  eye  after  a  rapid  walk  up 
the  cliff'.  Inside  the  walls  of  the  monastery  is  an  old 
fountain,  shaded  by  a  tree,  and  here  numbers  of  the 
Greek  peasantry  had  assembled.  Two  sides  of  the 
square  court  are  the  monks'  apartments,  with  the 
church  at  one  end,  and  a  suit  of  apartments  belonging 
to  the  patriarch  at  the  other.  The  latter  are  often 
given  up  to  the  use  of  rich  wedding-parties  during  the 
summer  months. 


A    GBEEK  WEDDING.  417 

After  ascending  two  flights  of  rickety  wooden 
stairs,  with  old  and  curiously-carved  balustrades,  we 
found  ourselves  in  an  open  room  or  salaamlik,  crowded 
with  Greek  gentlemen,  friends  of  the  bride  and  bride 
groom.  Coffee  and  sweetmeats  were  being  handed 
round.  Beyond,  and  leading  from  this,  were  two 
other  apartments ;  the  door  of  one  was  open,  and  re 
vealed  a  crowd  of  ladies  in  gala  costume.  A  graceful 
Greek  lady  came  from  amongst  them  to  welcome  us, 
and  this,  Madame  Baretta  whispered  to  me,  was  the 
mother  of  the  bride,  which  was  surprising, — she 
looked  so  young.  Madame  Baretta  is  a  Greek,  but 
speaks  Italian  very  well ;  she  immediately  conducted 
us  to  the  apartment  of  the  bride,  a  pretty,  quiet  room 
overlooking  the  cliff,  and  furnished  with  monastic 
simplicity.  Here,  on  a  divan,  pale  and  thoughtful,  sat 
a  young  lady  in  the  simplest  white  dress,  made  after 
the  English  fashion,  a  light  white  vail  falling  from 
the  Greek  chaplet  of  flowers  on  her  head,  to  the 
ground.  She  rose  gracefully  to  receive  us,  and  sat 
down  languidly  again  amongst  her  cushions.  She 
seemed  wearied  with  the  heat,  and  no  doubt  also  with 
the  agitation  of  the  day. 

I  did  not  think  her  pretty  at  first,  for  her  features 
were  not  perfectly  regular,  and  she  had  a  dark  olive 
complexion  ;  but  when  she  raised  her  long  black  eye 
lashes  and  spoke,  her  face  brightened,  and  we  thought 
her  charming.  The  shape  of  her  head  was  exquisite, 
and,  as  Mr.  Hall  afterward  said,  "  put  on  in  the  most 
distracting  manner."  Ladies,  young  and  old,  were 
constantly  coming  in  to  shake  hands,  kiss,  and  con 
gratulate. 

The  heat  of  the  room  was  most  oppressive,  and  I 


418  IN   AND   AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

was  glad  when  Madame  Baretta  said  that  it  was  time 
to  go  to  the  church.  There  was  a  pleasant  breeze  in 
the  old  court-yard,  and  the  vaulted  archway  through 
which  we  had  to  walk.  Passing  through  crowds  of 
Greeks,  men,  women,  and  children,  lining  the  usually 
quiet  walls  and  empty  benches,  we  at  last,  with  some 
difficulty,  reached  the  church.  It  was  lighted  up  with 
innumerable  tapers  in  the  centre,  the  aisles  were  left 
in  deep  shadow,  and  the  effect  was  really  beautiful. 

By  day,  although  interesting  from  its  antiquity, 
this  church,  like  all  other  Greek  churches,  is  tawdry 
in  the  extreme ;  but  by  night  the  dark  carving  looks 
well,  the  pink  and  white  glass  chandeliers  appear  less 
trumpery,  and  the  pictures  of  the  saints,  with  their 
silver  hands  and  "  glories,"  less  barbarous.  The  silent 
nooks,  where  the  antique  votive-lamp  burns  dimly 
before  the  shrine  of  some  favorite  saint  from  age  to 
age,  make  a  great  impression  on  the  mind.  At  first 
there  is  just  light  enough  to  reveal  the  silver  chains 
of  the  lamp ;  the  flame  is  scarcely  more  than  the  light 
of  a  glow-worm,  which  it  seems  as  if  a  breath  would 
flutter  away.  Then  you  dimly  discern  the  face  of  a 
saint,  or  Madonna  and  Child.  You  touch  a  wreath  of 
faded  flowers,  suspended  by  the  picture,  and  it  falls  to 
dust  at  your  feet.  On  a  little  ledge  you  see  a  crucifix, 
evidently  of  extraordinary  antiquity ;  on  another  lies 
a  book  of  Greek  manuscript,  the  leaves  falling  to 
pieces  with  the  breath  of  centuries.  Here  lies  a  silver 
heart  curiously  worked  arid  embossed, — some  offering 
of  love,  gratitude,  or  repentance,  from  a  human  one, 
silent  long  ago ;  there,  some  ancient  robes  of  the 
shurth,  the  once  gorgeous  embroidery  glistening  here 


A   GREEK   WEDDING.  419 

and  there,  as  it  may  have  done  centuries  ago,  in  pro 
cessions  before  kings  and  emperors. 

The  feeling  of  antiquity,  in  the  dim  aisles  and 
corners  of  these  old  Greek  churches,  produces  a  sen 
sation  difficult  to  describe,  and  to  me  singularly  de 
lightful.  I  feel  a  kind  of  thrill,  a  mysterious  joy,  at 
quietly  touching  these  silent  evidences  of  ages  long 
past  away.  There  is  a  great  charm  in  the  reverence 
and  care  of  old  things,  and  the  deep  affection  which, 
in  the  midst  of  much  superstition,  the  Greeks  show  in 
their  religion.  A  wild  Greek  woman,  beating  her 
breast  in  an  agony  of  supplication,  with  the  tears 
raining  down  her  sunburnt  face,  in  that  part  of  the 
Litany  when  the  people  chant  after  the  priest,  "  Lord 
have  mercy  upon  us  1"  would  startle  the  refined,  in 
different,  and  well-dressed  religionists  of  some  of  our 
fashionable  churches ;  or  a  ferocious-looking  creature 
in  sheepskins,  with  wild  eyes,  and  wilder  wandering 
locks,  bending  before  a  Madonna,  with  the  love  and 
tenderness  of  a  repentant  child,  and  perfectly  uncon 
scious  of  all  around. 

But  I  am  wandering  as  usual,  and  forgetting  the 
bride  and  the  wedding  altogether.  As  I  told  you,  the 
centre  of  the  church  was  illuminated  with  an  immense 
number  of  tapers ;  the  arrangement  of  the  pulpit  and 
old  carved  stalls  on  either  side  was  much  after  the 
manner  of  our  cathedrals,  only  pictures  of  saints,  and 
martyrs,  and  apostles,  covered  the  arched  walls  of  the 
aisles  on  either  side.  A  small  table,  with  a  richly-em 
broidered  velvet  cover,  was  placed  in  the  centre  of  the 
beautiful  mosaic  pavement ;  on  it  lay  an  ancient-look 
ing  volume,  with  large  silver  clasps,  and  round  it  were 
three  or  four  rich  Persian  prayer-mats  for  the  bride  to 


4:20  IN    AND   AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

walk  on.  The  smell  of  myrtle  in  the  church  was  de 
licious,  the  pavement  being  thickly  strewn  with  fresh 
branches  of  it,  from  the  door  to  the  table.  The  crowd 
was  already  great,  and  it  was  with  difficulty  that  Dr. 
Baretta  got  us  even  standing-room  near  the  table,  the 
stalls  being  filled  with  Greek  ladies,  and  the  aisles 
behind  crowded  by  the  peasantry,  work-people  of  the 
convent,  boys,  babies,  caiquejees,  and  nondescripts  of 
all  sorts.  However,  close  to  the  pulpit,  in  a  stall  by 
herself,  sat  a  Greek  girl  of  the  island,  evidently  quite 
comfortable  and  happy.  Unfortunately  for  her,  a 
robed  Greek  priest  motioned  her  to  give  me  her  seat. 
I  made  a  gesture  expressive  of  "  Pray  don't  disturb 
yourself!"  and  she  hesitated,  until  a  thundering  re 
proof  from  his  Keverence,  sent  her  flying  into  the 
crowd.  I  was  sorry  for  her,  but  nevertheless  glad  of 
her  place,  like  a  new  minister  here  when  his  friend 
had  been  banished  or  bowstrung.  I  had  now  an  ex 
cellent  view,  and  could  leisurely  survey  the  curious 
and  novel  scene  before  me.  Two  figures  interested 
me  greatly :  one  was  an  old  Greek  woman  leaning  on 
a  staff,  her  white  hair  bound  round  the  scarlet  fez 
upon  her  head;  the  other  a  sweet,  fair  child  of  five,  who 
had  seated  herself  unceremoniously  in  the  old  pulpit, 
and  kept  looking,  with  a  quiet  air  of  amusement  and 
pleasure,  from  the  pictured  saints  and  martyrs  to  the 
blazing  lights  and  robed  priests  and  crowd  of  eager 
spectators. 

And  now  we  heard  the  curious,  droning  kind  of 
chant  used  in  all  ceremonies  of  the  Greek  Church. 
It  was  evident  that  the  bride  and  bridegroom  were 
coming.  A  man  who  would  have  been  a  beadle  in 
England  (he  was  a  swarthy,  thin,  robed,  and  bearded 


A    GREEK   WEDDING.  421 

potentate  here),  knocked  a  number  of  impatient  boys 
on  the  back,  or  pulled  frantically  at  their  ragged  locks 
and  jackets,  to  keep  them  quiet,  and  cast  a  peculiarly 
ferocious  look  at  the  "  singing  boys,"  to  keep  their 
wreathed  rushlights  straight — gave  a  woman  a  push, 
whose  baby  was  engaged  in  an  earnest  attempt  to 
pinch  the  little  silver  finger  of  St.  Demetrius — sepa 
rated  two  fiery,  brigand-looking  youths,  greatly  in 
clined  to  stab  each  other  upon  the  pulpit-steps — 
hushed  a  couple  making  love  too  desperately  under 
the  very  blackest  and  primmest  Madonna,  and  gently 
insinuated  a  large  and  particularly  threatening-looking 
island  dog  out  of  the  crowd.  O  English  beadle ! 
what  would  you  have  said  ? 

But  here  come  the  "  footmen"  of  the  bride,  most 
respectable-looking  men;  for  the  bride's  family  are, 
I  am  told,  rich,  and  boast  "  highly  respectable"  con 
nections.  These  fine  specimens  of  stalwart  Greeks 
carried  lighted  tapers  about  five  feet  high,  each  com 
posed  of  three  candles,  bound  together  after  the  fashion 
of  the  fasces  of  Roman  lictors,  but  affectionately,  in 
this  case,  with  white  satin  ribbons ;  while  as  near  the 
united  flame  as  may  be  prudent,  smile  orange  and 
jasmine  blossoms  in  bonds  of  the  same  gentle,  prom 
ising,  and  fair  white  satin,  with  long  shining  ends, 
expressive  of  the  fullest  measure  of  happiness.  Well, 
the  Greeks,  with  these  gigantic  wreathed  tapers,  stand 
aside,  and  in  sweep,  chanting  solemnly,  the  long- 
bearded  and  magnificently  robed  priests.  This  is  a 
very  grand  wedding,  for  the  Patriarch  himself  is  here, 
and  no  less  than  eight  bishops.  Hand-in-hand  in 
the  midst  of  them  walk  the  bride  and  bridegroom. 
The  bishops  range  themselves  at  the  further  end  of 
36 


422  IN   AND   AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

the  table,  the  young  couple  standing  before  them, 
and  then  begins  a  solemn  Litany,  to  which  every  one 
makes  responses,  bending  low  and  reverently.  Now 
the  Patriarch  himself  advances  toward  the  bride, 
gives  her  his  hand  to  kiss,  and  swings  a  beautiful 
silver  censer,  breathing  delicious  incense,  over  her 
bowed  head  several  times;  he  is  a  most  amiable- 
looking  old  gentleman,  but  small,  and  sadly  muffled 
up  in  an  immense  white  beard,  with  gorgeous  robes 
and  a  scarf  much  too  large  for  him.  According  to 
our  notions,  I  cannot  say  that  I  discovered  any  thing 
earnest  or  impressive,  either  in  the  Patriarch  or  in 
the  service.  The  Patriarch  hurried  over  it  as  fast 
as  possible,  stopping  now  and  then  to  reprove,  in  a 
snappish  way,  any  priest  who  made  a  mistake  in  the 
responses,  which,  by-the-by,  they  often  seemed  to 
do,  and  the  old  gentleman  had  sharp  ears.  The 
chanting  certainly  is  the  most  horrible  nasal  noise 
possible  to  conceive.  I  have  thought  over  many 
words  by  which  to  express  its  effect  upon  my  senses ; 
— brutal  is  the  only  term,  strange  and  harsh  as  it 
may  sound.  The  first  time  I  heard  this  chanting 
was  at  a  grand  thanksgiving:  I  first  laughed  and 
then  cried,  and  was  never  more  shocked  or  distressed 
in  my  life. 

Most  of  the  bishops  look  like  a  mixture  of  Friar 
Tuck  and  a  brigand;  their  huge  beards  shake  with 
their  stentorian  voices,  as  they  bawl  one  against 
another,  and  haul  their  heavy  mantle  over  their  burly 
shoulders  as  if  it  were  a  coat-of-mail.  One  of  the 
robed  boys,  holding  a  taper,  was  letting  a  stream  of 
fat  fall  on  the  floor ;  a  bishop  gave  him  a  hard  slap, 


A   GREEK  WEDDING.  423 

accompanied  with  a  ferocious  look,  and  then  went  on 
with  his  Litany. 

I  was  glad  when  the  chanting  was  over :  the  heat 
was  frightful,  and  we  felt  ready  to  faint.  The  poor 
"bride,  closely  hemmed  in  with  friends,  bishops,  and 
crowds  of  spectators,  looked  very  pale ;  not  a  breath 
of  air  stirred,  the  smell  of  incense  was  overpower 
ing,  and  it  was  sickening  to  see  the  tallow  streaming 
from  the  tapers  on  to  the  flowers,  and  large  drops 
falling  from  the  faces  of  the  priests.  How  I  longed 
for  the  ceremony  to  be  over !  But  now  began  the 
most  interesting  and  important  part.  The  bride  and 
bridegroom  slowly  and  distinctly  repeat  a  vow  word 
by  word  after  the  Patriarch,  who  then  joins  their 
hands.  Each  gives  the  other  a  ring,  which  is  ex 
changed  several  times  from  one  to  the  other,  with 
a  prayer  from  the  Patriarch,  and  at  last  placed  on  the 
finger  of  each.  Then  comes  another  chant,  to  which 
there  is  a  solemn  response  of  "  Ameen"  from  priests 
and  people.  The  Patriarch  then  takes  the  bride's 
ring  again  from  her  finger,  and  touches  with  it  her 
brow,  the  top  of  her  head,  her  temples,  each  side  of 
her  head,  her  eyebrows,  between  her  eyes — in  fact  all 
her  phrenological  bumps.  This  ring  he  now  puts  on 
the  bridegroom's  finger,  and  again  taking  his  lately 
given  one,  touches  his  bumps  with  it  in  the  same 
manner  as  he  has  just  done  those  of  the  bride,  and 
with  the  same  prayers  and  exhortations  he  places  it 
once  more  on  her  finger. 

The  couple  are  now  married,  and  I  see  the  bride 
groom  press  the  lady's  hand  with  a  look  of  great  sat 
isfaction  ;  he  is  a  fine  and  tolerably  good-looking  young 
man.  Now  his  "friend"  brings  forward  two  beautiful 


424  IN   AND   AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

wreaths  of  artificial  orange-blossom  and  jasmine,  over 
which  fall  a  profusion  of  long  glittering  gold  threads ; 
they  are  fastened  together  with  rather  wide  white  rib 
bon,  two  or  three  yards  being  allowed  for  the  "tether." 
The  patriarch  places  one  on  the  head  of  the  bride,  and 
another  on  that  of  the  bridegroom,  who  looks  remark 
ably  uncomfortable  and  somewhat  ridiculous  in  it; 
the  gold  threads  tickle  his  face,  and  ramble  in  confu 
sion  amidst  the  luxuriance  of  his  black  mustachios ; 
these  wreaths  are  changed  three  times  from  head  to 
head,  and  are  then  allowed  to  remain. 

After  this  the  Patriarch  takes  the  hand  of  the  bride 
(who  kisses  his  with  great  devotion),  and  leads  her 
round  the  table,  her  husband  following  like  a  lamb, 
and  by  this  time  perfectly  subdued  by  the  gold  thread, 
and  by  terror  of  his  wreaths  falling  off.  Three  times 
they  scamper  hurriedly  round,  the  bishops  and  priests 
following  in  splendid  confusion  as  best  they  may. 
Then  the  wretched  couple  kneel,  and  kiss  the  grand 
old  missal,  and  receive  the  benediction  of  the  Patriarch. 
But  the  heat  now  became  so  frightful,  and  the  crowd 
had  increased  so  greatly,  that  it  was  impossible  for  me 
to  see  every  thing  that  passed.  I  only  know  it  was  a 
great  relief  to  hear  that  it  was  over. 

The  mother  of  the  bride  now  entered  the  church, 
walked  up  to  the  velvet- covered  table,  knelt,  and 
kissed  the  book.  Then  she  rose  and  kissed  the  hand 
of  the  Patriarch,  and  then  turned,  with  evidently  great 
emotion,  to  her  daughter,  who  instantly  knelt  on 
the  pavement  at  her  mother's  feet:  the  latter  raised 
her,  and  kissed  first  her  marriage  wreath  and  then  her 
face  many  times.  Then  she  kissed  her  son-in-law's 
wreath  and  face  ;  he  seemed  very  fond  of  his  mother- 


A    GREEK   WEDDING.  425 

m-law,  kissed  her  half-a-dozen  times,  and  then  wiped 
a  good  shower  of  tears  hastily  from  his  eyes.  Then 
began  the  general  kissing  of  both.  First  the  bride's 
sister,  a  verp  pretty  girl,  with  golden  hair,  gave  a  long 
embrace,  with  a  few  tears, — then  the  brothers, — then 
the  friends.  First  they  kissed  the  wreaths,  then  each 
cheek,  and  lastly  the  lips.  I  was  very  much  amused 
at  the  heartiness  with  which  young  ladies  on  tiptoe 
gave  kiss  after  kiss  to  this  wreathed,  flushed,  and 
happy-looking  bridegroom,  who  returned  them  all, 
with  interest,  in  the  most  obliging  manner.  But  the 
Patriarch  and  bishops  feeling,  I  dare  say,  tired  and 
thirsty  from  the  heat,  soon  put  a  stop  to  this,  and  the 
procession  was  again  formed.  First  went  the  torch- 
bearers;  then  the  Patriarch  and  four  robed  priests, 
their  gold  embroidery  glittering  in  the  uncertain 
light ;  then  the  bride  and  bridegroom,  hand-in-hand, 
still  wearing  their  wreaths,  and  looking  of  course  su 
premely  happy  although  rather  fatigued ;  then  the 
rest  of  the  priests  and  bishops,  chanting  as  they  went 
in  a  confused  mass  of  guests,  island  Greeks,  monks, 
and  women. 

Oh,  the  delicious  breeze,  when  at  last  we  reached 
the  portal  and  gained  the  court-yard  !  Here  we  stood 
to  mark  the  fine  effect  of  light  and  shadow,  as  the  pro 
cession  crossed  the  cloisters  and  entered  the  Patriarch's 
house.  The  dark  faces  and  picturesque  costumes 
grouped  around  and  under  the  old  fountain-tree  looked 
splendid,  illumined  fitfully  by  the  flaming  torches 
held  by  the  Greek  servants,  and  by  the  garlanded 
tapers  of  the  procession. 

A  splendid  German  band,  which    has  been   some 
time  in  Constantinople,  now  struck  up  some  graceful 
36* 


42(5  IN    AND   AROUND    STAMBOUL. 

music,  to  winch  we  listened  for  a  few  minutes,  and 
then  followed  the  procession  into  the  monastery. 
The  salaamlik  was  fearfully  hot  and  crowded.  The 
principal  room  beyond  was  lighted  up  with  wax  can 
dles  placed  in  old-fashioned  chandeliers  round  the 
wall.  On  a  table  in  the  middle  of  the  room  was  a 
splendid  bouquet  of  Eastern  flowers.  The  bride  and 
bridegroom,  wreathed,  sat  on  the  divan  at  the  top  of 
the  room,  still  accepting  and  dispensing  kisses  and 
shakes  of  the  hand.  Presently  the  wreaths  were 
given  by  the  Patriarch  to  the  bride's  mother ;  they 
are  preserved  with  the  greatest  care,  and  buried  in 
the  grave  of  which  ever  of  the  two  who  wore  them 
dies  first. 

I  have  little  more  to  tell  you.  I  wished  the  bride 
all  happiness,  and  she  thanked  me  very  sweetly  and 
gracefully.  Beautiful  trays  of  sweetmeats  were  now 
handed  round  by  the  bride's  sister  and  mother,  and 
each  person  had  a  lapfull;  I  tied  mine  up  in  my 
handkerchief,  and  have  kept  the  prettiest  for  Edith. 
The  Patriarch  and  bishops,  now  in  their  old  black 
gowns,  and  tucked  up  comfortably  on  the  divan,  were 
very  sociable,  and  chatted  to  every  one  who  could 
chat  to  them. 

We  took  each  a  glass  of  pink  liqueur  together,  and 
then  made  our  adieu,  for  all  the  ladies  were  ranged 
around  the  room  waiting  for  the  dancing  to  begin. 
They  much  wished  us  to  stay,  but  a  fresh  breeze  had 
sprung  up,  and  I  did  not  think  it  prudent  to  delay 
crossing,  as  a  tremendous  current  into  the  Sea  of  Mar 
mora  runs  between  our  island  and  the  one  where  we 
had  been  witnesses  of  the  ceremony  of  which  I  have 
been  giving  you  a  sketch.  We  had  a  charming  walk 


A   GREEK  WEDDING.  427 

to  our  caique.  Nothing  could  be  finer  than  the  mag 
nificent  old  avenue  of  cypresses,  lighted  up  by  the 
monks  with  flaming  torches  of  pine-wood,  to  guide 
coming  and  returning  guests.  We  found  the  sea  very 
angry,  and  huge  waves  dashing  violently  against  the 
shore.  It  was  moonlight,  and  the  "Edith  Belina" 
was  soon  in  a  flow  of  wild  silver  waves, — leaving  the 
dark  island  of  Halki,  with  the  blazing  lights  of  the 
monastery  on  the  heights,  and  the  twinkling  lights  of 
its  cottages  beneath,  far  behind  her. 

The  bride  will  receive  visitors  for  three  days ;  and 
for  three  days  coffee  and  sweetmeats  and  liqueurs  will 
be  handed  round  to  all  comers.  After  this  patient 
long-suffering,  things  settle  down  to  their  ordinary 
routine.  A  very  tedious,  fatiguing  affair  a  Greek 
wedding  must  be  altogether !  But  I  must  say  good 
night.  The  heat  has  been  fearful  to-day.  It  is  now 
ten  o'clock :  the  cicalas  are  still  chirping,  but  every 
thing  else  is  languid  and  quiet.  Best  love  to  all ! 


LETTER    LIII. 

EXCURSION  TO  ISMID— MOUNTAIN   SCENERY — ISLANDS — FISHING- VILLAGES 

— RAMBLES    ON    SHORE — VEGETATION ISLAND  SCENERY INSECTS  AND 

FISHES RETURN    TO    PRINKIPO. 

Prinkipo,  Augiist  18th,  1856. 

My  dearest  Mother : 

On  Tuesday  last  Signer  Yitalis,  a  rich  and  hos 
pitable  Greek  merchant  here,  invited  us  to  join  a  party 
of  friends  going  to  Ismid;  the  ancient  Nicomedia.  I 
had  often  wished,  in  our  caique  excursions,  to  get  fur 
ther,  within  view  of  the  misty  mountains  to  our  right, 
and  was  delighted  at  the  prospect  of  steaming  along 
the  coast  of  Asia  to  the  very  end  of  the  Gulf  of  Nico 
media.  It  was  arranged  that  we  islanders  were  all 
to  assemble  on  the  pier  at  Prinkipo,  at  eight  o'clock 
in  the  morning.  Nothing  could  be  more  lovely  than 
the  weather — sea  and  sky  one  unclouded  blue.  The 
white  walls  and  minarets  of  Stamboul  shone  in  the 
bright  sunlight  far  over  the  waves,  and  on  the  wild 
Asian  coast  the  solitary  fishing- villages,  scattered  few 
and  far  between,  and  the  white-sailed  caiques  moving 
slowly  about,  were  plainly  visible. 

Like  a  little  speck,  a  white  bird  on  the  waters, 
we  first  saw  the  "  Sylph,"  miles  away — the  air  is  so 
clear  here.  When  she  came  nearer,  she  looked  very 
pretty,  with  her  white  awning  and  gay  flags.  We 
were  soon  off,  every  one  being  punctual,  (except  a 
little  island  donkey,  who  had  to  bring  a  supply  of 
spring-water  on  board,  and  kept  us  a  few  minutes 

(428) 


EXCUKSION  TO   ISMID.  429 

waiting),  and  were  soon  steaming  as  close  in  to  the 
Asiatic  shore  as  possible.  The  view  opposite  these 
islands  gives  you  a  great  idea  of  vast  space  and  soli 
tariness:  hill  upon  hill,  mountain  upon  mountain, 
immense  slopes,  broad  plains,  low  marshes,  long  vistas 
of  sandy  beach,  and  not  a  sign  of  a  human  being,  not 
a  human  habitation  or  wreath  of  smoke,  to  be  seen. 
Sometimes,  after  noting  all  this  solitariness  for  awhile, 
you  feel  quite  startled  by  making  out  a  far-off  field  or 
olive-garden,  and  then,  screened  by  a  few  cypresses, 
some  ancient-looking  wooden  houses,  desolate  as  the 
burnt-up  fields  around  them. 

Nearly  opposite  the  Convent  of  St.  George  here,  the 
Asiatic  coast  becomes  more  and  more  mountainous. 
I  often  watch  with  great  interest  two  magnificent 
peaks,  where  snow-white  vapors,  tinged  with  rose- 
color,  rise  majestically  from  the  valleys  on  the  other 
side,  and  flow  slowly  over  them,  throwing  beautiful 
shadows  over  the  dark -green  slopes  of  the  mountain. 
Near  the  summit  of  the  lowest  of  these  peaks  is  a 
small  group  of  cypress-trees ;  and  tradition  says  that 
this  is  the  burial-place  of  Hannibal.  Irene,  the  im 
prisoned  Queen  of  Byzantium,  must  have  often 
thought  of  this  when  standing  on  the  heights  of  her 
convent  here.  This  part  of  the  world  is  marvelously 
full  of  historical  and  legendary  interest. 

Some  cool  morning  (if  ever  there  will  be  one)  I  in 
tend  trying  to  reach  those  cypress-trees.  They  say  it 
can  be  done  in  five  or  six  hours,  and  at  least  one 
would  have  a  magnificent  view  of  Mount  Olympus, 
and  of  these  lovely  islands,  the  Sea  of  Marmora,  and 
the  Golden  Horn,  far,  far  away,  besides  the  curious 


430  IN   AND  AROUND  STAMBOUL. 

delight  of  thinking  that  one  may  be  sitting  by  the 
grave  of  Hannibal. 

I  am  writing  very  lazily,  for  the  heat  is  great,  and 
I  am  afraid  of  giving  you  but  a  faint  idea  of  the 
marvelous  loveliness  of  the  islands,  sea,  and  coast, 
through  which  we  passed.  But  fancy  one  of  the 
sweetest  bits  of  the  Surry  Hills  rising  abruptly  out 
of  the  water,  only  with  gray  rocks,  covered  with  dark 
arbutus,  heather,  and  all  sorts  of  wild  plants,  reaching 
to  white  sands  and  dark-blue  waves.  Fancy  misty 
mountains,  with  snow  glittering  on  their  tops,  on  one 
side,  a  wild  and  magnificent  coast  on  the  other ;  wild 
sea-birds  and  wilder-looking  Greek  feluccas  occasion 
ally  darting  by  ;  a  convent  or  ruin  standing  out  here 
and  there  in  the  bold  outline  of  some  noble  cliff,  and 
you  may  have  some  notion  of  what  I  think  would  be 
quite  Paradise,  if  the  trees  were  larger. 

We  passed  several  small  islands,  which  seemed  un 
inhabited.  Stone-pines  grew  so  close  to  the  cliffs  as 
to  hang  quite  over  them.  The  rocks  were  of  wonder 
ful  beauty  and  variety  of  color,  and  the  contrast  of 
the  brilliant  green  of  the  luxurious  arbutus  and  heath 
growing  on  them,  with  the  dark-gray  and  red-and- 
brown  of  the  different  strata,  was  the  most  beautiful 
thing  to  the  eye  that  can  be  conceived.  Every  now 
and  then  a  dark  eagle  soared  calmly  round  his  pos 
sessions,  scarcely  ever  deigning  to  flap  a  wing;  or 
large  black-and-white  sea-hawks  flew  round  and  about 
the  huge  masses  of  rock  that  had  toppled  far  out  into 
the  waves,  which  were  surging  up  them  with  a  pleas 
ant  murmur.  It  was  very  lovely,  and  I  often  thought 
how  you  would  have  enjoyed  moving  along  in  these 
dreamlike  seas.  The  last  island  was  the  most  charm- 


EXCUKSION   TO   ISMID.  4:31 

ing,  having  an  uninterrupted  view  of  Mount  Olympus 
and  the  coasts  on  either  side.  On  it,  embowered  in 
the  fir  and  arbutus  trees,  we  detected  three  or  four 
small,  heather-thatched  huts,  and  in  a  little  creek 
covered  with  white  sand,  lay  several  fishing  caiques 
idle,  and  their  sails  furled.  A  small  scarlet  pennant 
floated  from  each  tiny  mast,  in  honor  of  the  Courbam 
Balram.  It  seemed  almost  surprising  to  see  any  note 
of  holidays  in  so  remote  and  silent  a  place. 

Soon  after  passing  these  green  island-gems  we  were 
fairly  in  the  Gulf  of  Nicomedia.  It  is  much  wider 
than  the  Bosphorus :  the  mountains  are  three  times 
the  height,  and,  instead  of  white  palaces  and  lovely 
terraced  gardens,  the  shores  are  marvelous  in  rocks 
and  cliffs  and  the  wildest  caves  imaginable.  I  do  not 
know  why  I  should  compare  them,  only  a  thought 
crossed  my  mind  of  the  wonderful  beauty,  in  its 
way,  of  each  Strait — the  Bosphorus,  soft  and  flow 
ing,  dreamy  and  luxurious — Nicomedia,  wild  and 
grand,  and  savage  and  solitary,  to  me  so  much  more 
beautiful. 

I  often  think  that,  once  past  the  island  of  Antigone, 
you  are  at  home,  that  you  can  love  the  country  as  well 
as  admire  it.  It  is  our  own  dear  mother  Nature  here, 
and  all  her  sounds  are  alike  sweet  and  pleasant.  On 
the  Bosphorus  you  constantly  hear  the  Muezzin's  call 
from  the  minaret — the  thunder  of  guns  announcing 
that  the  Sultan  has  gone  to  mosque,  or  that  it  is  Eam- 
azan,  or  Bairam,  or  some  other  Mohammedan  feast,  or 
the  day  when  the  Prophet  went  to  heaven  on  a  white 
camel,  or  when  he  rode  among  the  faithful  on  a  brown 
one ;  you  can  never  forget,  or  lose  sight  of  the  un 
happy,  degraded  state  of  the  women — you  are  always 


432  IN   AND   AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

longing  to  do  something  signally  dreadful  to  the  pashas, 
and  secretly  grieving  for  the  people — you  are  con 
stantly  vexed  to  see  dirty  streets,  dilapidated  mosques 
and  fountains,  and  every  thing  going  wrong.  In  fact, 
one  grieves  and  mourns  and  rails  at  Constantinople  till 
one  is  tired ;  but  this  sea  might  be  the  Lake  of  Como, 
and  the  land  the  Surry  hills,  only  with  rocks  and  cliffs 
and  caiques  and  figs  and  olives  and  old  convents  and 
pomegranates  and  eagles  and  centipedes  and  monks ; 
and  it  is  really  extraordinary  what  variety  of  scenery 
and  objects  a  sail  of  two  hours  along  these  coasts 
offers.  You  may  imagine  then  how  delightful  it  was 
to  leave  island  after  island,  village  after  village,  far 
behind — to  come  within  sight  of  lofty  mountains 
crowned  with  vast  forests,  range  after  range,  one  beau 
tifully  undulating  line  after  another,  until  terminating 
at  the  shore  in  vast  cliffs  and  towering  rocks  covered 
with  plane-trees  and  pine-trees  and  superb  laurels, 
heath,  and  juniper.  Every  now  and  then  this  grand  land 
scape — the  profound  silence,  and  the  absence  of  every 
sign  of  humanity — the  huge  rocks,  rising  like  islands 
abruptly  out  of  the  sea — the  mountains  shining  with 
snow  far  above  the  dark  woods,  Mount  Olympus 
hemmed  in  like  a  giant  in  his  holdfast,  and  crowned 
with  his  white  helmet,  which  even  this  fierce  sun  has 
no  power  to  pierce — the  hazy,  dreamy  light  above  the 
highest  points,  uniting  them  in  a  soft  violet  bloom  to 
the  masses  of  snowy  cloud — all  this  wild  and  silent 
magnificence  impressed  us  much  with  a  feeling,  or 
rather  sensation,  that  it  was  antediluvian.  Enormous 
dolphins  were  sporting  about,  sometimes  rising  com 
pletely  out  of  the  water,  just  like  those  in  ancient 
prints.  It  must  be  a  grand  place  for  fossils :  I  dare 


EXCURSION  TO   ISMID.  433 

say  we  might  have  found  the  bones  of  some  leviathan 
on  the  shore.  However,  there  are  plenty  of  jackals 
and  wolves,  wild  boars,  and  some  bears  too,  who  might 
possibly  feel  inclined  to  add  ours  to  the  collection ;  so 
it  might  be  as  well  not  to  venture  without  a  good 
guard.  Signor  Vitalis  talks  of  going  in  the  winter  with 
a  hunting  party  and  well  armed. 

At  last  we  turned  the  corner  of  a  noble  gray  rock 
crowned  with  superb  tufts  of  heath  and  arbutus  (the 
richest  and  brightest  green  conceivable),  and  here  were 
signs  of  life.  Eighteen  fishing  caiques  of  the  antique 
form,  their  lofty  beaks  and  prows  adorned  with  a  rude 
embroidery  of  large  blue  beads,  lay  at  anchor  in  a  little 
bay  formed  by  the  jutting  rocks.  It  was  the  prettiest 
and  most  picturesque  little  fleet  one  could  well  im 
agine,  and  covered  with  Turkish  flags  and  streamers 
in  honor  of  Bairam. 

A  small  fishing- village  lay  half-way  up  the  cliff,  ap 
proached  by  a  winding  path  through  an  olive-planta 
tion.  On  each  side  were  vineyards  ;  beyond  them,  the 
wild  mountainous,  arbutus-covered  land ;  the  minaret 
of  a  tiny  mosque  showed  from  behind  a  small  clump 
of  cypresses,  but  not  a  soul  was  visible ;  all  I  suppose 
were  reposing,  as  it  was  Bairam  and  mid-day.  We 
were  now  making  but  slow  progress,  for  a  strong 
breeze  had  sprung  up  against  us,  which  soon  lashed 
up  a  stormy  sea.  Some  of  the  waves  dashed  up  so  high 
that  two  or  three  of  us  sitting  in  the  prow  of  the  vessel 
got  a  good  ducking.  The  full  rolling  tide  of  dark-blue 
water,  with  the  "white  horses"  rushing  furiously  along, 
looked  singularly  beautiful,  contrasted  with  the  many- 
shaded  green  of  the  woods,  and  olive-gardens  and  vine 
yards.  Our  eyes  followed  with  delight  Greek  barks 
37 


434  IN   AND   AROUND  STAMBOUL. 

bounding  along,  every  snow-white  sail  set,  and  tack 
ing  for  some  distant  mountain- village,  just  to  be  made 
out  high,  high  above,  nestled  in  dark  oaks  and 
cypresses.  Immense  dolphins  kept  darting  after  our 
ship  with  singular  rapidity,  sometimes  leaping  quite 
out  of  the  water,  and  then  suddenly  disappearing  in  its 
sparkling  depths.  It  certainly  was  a  most  lovely 
journey. 

Presently  we  came  to  a  Greek  fishing- village  again, 
but  of  considerable  size.  By  its  side  were  the  ruins 
of  a  large  fortress,  the  walls  of  which  were  covered 
with  the  same  bright-green  shrubs  of  the  most  luxuri 
ant  beauty.  Here  also  the  caiques  lay  in  the  same 
holiday  idleness  on  the  beach.  The  vineyards  seemed 
to  be  very  fine,  and  large  golden- colored  melons  were 
basking  by  hundreds  in  the  sultry  fields  near  the 
houses.  Every  here  and  there  we  perceived,  nested 
among  the  rocks,  the  little  huts  of  shepherds,  but 
neither  sheep  nor  goats  were  to  be  seen.  Nothing 
seemed  stirring  on  shore,  and  on  the  sea  only  our 
selves,  and  the  restless  sea-birds,  and  one  or  two  wan 
dering  feluccas.  The  rocks  beyond  this  were  surpass 
ingly  fine,  picturesque,  and  varied.  We  often  thought, 
"  Here  are  the  walls  and  battlements  of  a  ruined  castle, 
with  huge  masses  fallen  down  and  heaped  upon  the 
shore ;"  but,  on  looking  closer,  we  found  that  no  mor 
tal  hands  had  ever  piled  or  hewn  them,  that  the  lords 
of  these  giant  keeps  had  never  been  other  than  the 
eagle  or  sea-hawk — as  good  masters  perhaps  as  the  fe 
rocious  chiefs  of  olden  time. 

The  breeze  had  now  increased  to  a  gale ;  some  of 
the  ladies  were  ill,  others  frightened,  and  we  made  but 
little  way  against  the  rush  of  wind  and  water  rolling 


EXCURSION   TO   ISMID.  435 

down  the  gulf.  To  my  great  regret,  Signor  Yitalis 
told  me  there  was  no  hope  of  reaching  Ismid  (Nico- 
media)  in  time  to  return  that  night ;  it  is  seventy  miles 
from  Constantinople.  I  was  greatly  disappointed  at 
first,  wishing  so  much  to  see  the  remains  of  an  old 
castle  and  wall  built  when  Nicomeds,  the  King  of 
Bithynia,  lived  there.  However,  there  was  nothing  to 
be  done  but  wonder  why  people  who  are  ill  with  a 
breeze  ever  go  to  sea  for  pleasure.  Signor  Yitalis  was 
most  kind,  and  anxious  to  please  everybody. 

Another  pretty  wild-looking  village  soon  came  in 
sight.  We  looked  out  anxiously  for  trees,  and  seeing 
some  of  considerable  size  in  a  little  valley  near  the 
shore,  agreed  that  it  would  be  very  pleasant  to  land 
there,  Ismid  being  now  out  of  the  question ;  and  so  our 
anchor  was  quickly  cast  in  the  quiet  bay.  Here,  with 
the  usual  fun  and  laughter  and  chat  and  flirtation  of  a 
picnic,  we  dined  ;  at  least,  a  most  tempting  repast  was 
served ;  but  it  was  too  hot  for  any  one  but  cheerful 
"  Commissary  Joe"  to  eat,  and  to  drink  we  were  afraid. 
Somehow  or  other  I  think  it  would  take  a  great  deal 
to  make  that  remarkable  man  and  Crimean  hero  afraid 
of  iced  champagne — an  earthquake,  or  comet  at  least, 
some  one  suggested ! 

A  number  of  large  caiques,  rowed  by  fine,  hardy- 
looking  Greeks,  now  glided  up  to  the  "  Sylph,"  and 
all  bent  on  pleasure  and  with  the  spirit  of  adventure, 
started  in  them  for  a  ramble  on  shore.  There  was  a 
little  wooden  pier  stretching  some  distance  out  into 
the  sea.  The  village  seemed  to  be  inhabited  also  by 
Turks,  for  in  a  remote  corner  rose  a  small  minaret, 
with  the  usual  dark  cypresses,  gently  bending  their 
heads  to  the  wind.  Once  on  shore,  people  separated 


436  IN   AND   AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

and  went  their  several  ways:  some  walked  straight 
to  the  trees  to  sit  down ;  others  proposed  a  stroll 
through  a  magnificent  ravine,  leading  inland ;  many 
wished  to  see  the  village,  which  seemed  primitive 
and  picturesque.  One  mentioned  ripe  grapes  in  the 
vineyards,  and  hinted  at  green  figs ;  another  pointed 
to  a  glorious  gray  cliff  covered  with  arbutus  and 
myrtle,  and  commanding  a  view  of  marvelous  beauty. 
"  Bother  your  fine  scenery !"  growls  Commissary  Joe  ; 
"  I  shall  do  like  a  sensible  man,  go  and  drink  a  cup 
of  coffee  with  that  jolly  old  Turk  there."  He  dis 
appeared  in  a  little  wooden  kiosk  built  over  the  sea, 
at  the  door  of  which  several  villagers  quietly  smoked 
and  regarded  us.  I  do  not  know  who  followed  him, 
for  a  few  of  us  resolved  to  stroll  along  the  shore,  and 
see  what  was  to  be  seen  beyond  a  fine  cliff,  which 
stretched  its  rugged  green  sides  far  out  into  the  sea. 
But  it  was  easier  to  talk  of  walking  than  to  walk  to 
day,  the  heat  was  so  oppressive.  The  ground  was  so 
hot  that  it  quite  burnt  our  feet,  and  the  sun  struck 
from  the  rocks  with  the  scorching  fierceness  of  an 
oven.  Without  the  wind  it  would  have  been  impos 
sible  to  move ;  as  it  was,  we  did  not  meet  a  single 
living  thing — not  a  sound  but  the  dashing  of  the 
waves  below,  and  above,  on  the  olive  and  fir-trees,  the 
constant  "  trill,  trill,"  of  countless  cicalas.  We  found 
ourselves  toiling  up  a  rough,  chalky  road,  cut  in  the 
most  picturesque  manner  out  of  the  cliff.  Below  us 
lay  the  sea,  then  came  rocks,  and  then  a  thick  border 
of  olive-trees  skirting  the  pathway.  High  above  us, 
on  the  other  side,  were  luxuriant  vineyards,  studded 
every  here  and  there  with  a  dark  fig  or  pomegranate. 
This  side  of  the  road  was  fenced  also  with  olive  and 


EXCUKS10N   TO    ISMID.  437 

wild  Daphne,  and  many  (to  me)  unknown  shrubs.  I 
noticed  one  in  particular,  which  I  saw  last  year  grow 
ing  on  rocks  by  the  Black  Sea.  It  is  like  the  ash, 
only  smaller  and  much  more  delicate-looking,  and 
bears  the  loveliest  bunches  imaginable  of  berries  just 
like  coral,  its  stems  charmingly  shaded  in  delicate 
pink  and  brown.  On  this  and  many  other  of  the  trees 
hung  a  very  pretty  parasitical  plant ;  long  threads  of 
pale,  delicate  green,  with  an  exquisite  little  bunch 
of  tiny  golden  flowers,  at  about  four  inches  apart,  on 
it.  I  was  so  concerned  at  having  neither  my  boards 
nor  even  a  book  with  me  to  preserve  a  specimen. 
Here  also  grew  in  profusion  on  the  rocks  the  kind  of 
juniper,  bearing  clusters  of  bright  yellow  berries,  of 
which  they  tell  me  henna  is  made,  which  dyes  the 
Turkish  ladies'  hands  and  feet.  There  were  wild  arti 
chokes,  their  heads  hoary  with  soft  white  wool,  wild 
asparagus,  and,  what  I  was  charmed  to  see,  the  real, 
wild,  original  hollyhock,  single  but  brilliant,  and  not 
nearly  as  large  as  the  favorite  of  our  English  shrub 
beries.  Then  I  came  upan  large  masses  of  a  plant  of 
which  I  was  determined  at  least  to  try  and  get  a  speci 
men.  It  grows  seven  or  eight  feet  high,  and  is  cov 
ered  with  long  spikes  of  lavender-colored  blossom, 
having  a  most  pleasant  smell,  something,  to  my  fancy, 
like  eau-de-Cologne :  the  leaf  just  resembles  that  of 
the  lupine.  Bound  these  bushes  fluttered  a  marvelous 
display  of  insect  life ;  superb  butterflies,  large  and 
small ;  immense  purple  humble-bees,  looking  at  first 
more  like  beetles;  and  richly -feathered  moths,  with 
mouselike  faces,  beautifully  streaked  with  cream-color 
and  pink  down  the  back.  A  collector  would  have 
been  wild  with  delight  and  perplexity  which  to  catch 
.  37* 


438  IN   AND   AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

first,  the  lovely  yellow  butterfly  with  purple  eyes,  or 
the  black-and-white  velvet  one,  or  the  one  studded 
with  jewels  and  "  eyes"  quite  shaming  our  "peacock," 
or  the  tiny  white-and-scarlet  thing,  or  the  gleaming 
blue,  or  the  exquisite  green.  I  have  long  resisted 
making  a  collection,  not  having  the  means  of  depriving 
the  poor  happy  things  of  life  quickly  and  effectively. 
However,  I  have  succeeded  in  getting  two  excellent 
specimens  of  the  sweet-smelling  plant  and  insect  para 
dise  to  add  to  my  Eastern  "  Flora."  They  laugh  at 
me  very  much  for  scrambling  about  in  the  heat, 
but  it  is  impossible  to  see  so  many  pretty  things 
unmoved. 

Here  I  found  two  snail-shells  of  gigantic  proportions, 
richly  streaked  and  ringed  with  brown.  Some  goats 
had  evidently  been  clambering  up  the  cliff,  and  had 
dislodged  them  from  the  loose  broken-up  chalk  and 
iron  strata.  I  shall  show  them  to  Dr.  Hassell,  be 
lieving  them  to  be  very  curious  and  rare.* 

We  now  came  to  a  truly  magnificent  fig-tree ;  its 
wide-spreading  branches  and  massive  leaves  quite 
overshadowed  the  little  mountain-road,  and  made  a 
pleasant  shade.  Sloping  upward  from  it  was  a  vine 
yard,  and  many  pomegranates  covered  with  yet  un 
ripe  fruit.  "  Here  we  will  rest  1"  we  all  exclaimed. 
So  we  rested,  and  talked  about  the  sultry  heat,  and 
listened  to  the  cicalas,  and  wished  for  the  cool,  soft 
song  of  a  bird,  and  marveled  at  the  huge  piles  of  rock 
fallen  near  us  (among  even  the  figs  and  vine,)  and  at 

*  Mr.  Buckland  tells  me  that  these  snails  were  highly  esteemed 
by  the  Romans,  and  that  even  in  these  days  they  are  evidence 
of  a  Roman  settlement  having  existed  on  the  spot  where  they 
are  found. 


EXCURSION   TO   ISMID.  439 

the  splendid  beauty  of  the  forest-covered  mountains 
opposite  and  the  fir-clad  shore.  We  regretted  a  little 
too  not  getting  on  to  Ismid,  as  the  coasts  were  becom 
ing  finer  at  every  turn.  But  that  was  useless,  and  as 
the  rest  of  the  party  were  too  tired  and  too  much  ex 
hausted  by  the  heat  to  move  just  yet,  I  resolved  upon 
seeing  if  possible  what  was  beyond  the  next  project 
ing  cliff.  So  off  I  started,  promising  to  return  in  ten 
minutes. 

I  gained  the  top  of  the  hill,  and  the  view  was  indeed 
glorious.  Then  who  could  resist  winding  down  again 
into  the  valley,  it  was  so  beautiful !  I  sat  down  on  a 
piece  of  rock  shaded  by  some  olive-trees,  thoroughly 
enchanted.  Before  me  lay  a  vast  fallen  cliff,  almost 
coverd  with  bright  plants  and  shrubs;  but  what 
pleased  and  charmed  me  most  was  to  see  a  silvery 
shower  of  "Travelers' -joy"  streaming  down  its  rugged 
sides.  How  it  reminded  me  of  English  woods  and 
lanes !  I  had  not  seen  it  before  in  Turkey,  and  it 
seemed  like  an  old  and  dear  friend. 

This  was  a  delicious  place  to  rest  in.  I  watched 
the  bright  lizards  creeping  in  and  out  of  the  crevices 
in  the  rocks,  and  fancied  that  sometimes  their  quick 
bright  glance  rested  on  me.  Opposite  was  a  dark- 
brown  cave;  heavy  creeping-plants  hung  in  thick 
masses  over  its  entrance,  and  laughing,  fluttering  vine- 
leaves  peeped  in  from  above.  Pretty  rock-doves  were 
cooing,  and  constantly  flying  in  and  out — the  only 
sound  that  broke  the  profound  silence.  "Now,"  I 
thought,  "  I  must  go,  although  I  shall  never  see  this 
lovely  place  again."  So  I  arose,  with  a  lingering 
look  at  the  deep  shade,  but  still  could  not  turn  back, 
and  resolved  quite  desperately  to  see  round  the  next 


440  IN   AND   AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

cliff'.  I  kept  my  face  turned  as  much  to  the  wind  as  I 
could,  and  ah;  what  a  delight  it  was  to  see  a  new  reach 
or  vista  of  this  magnificent  gulf !  Never  shall  I  forget 
it !  The  path  now  wound  downward,  and  I  found 
myself  within  a  few  feet  of  the  shore :  it  was  impos 
sible  to  resist,  so  I  scrambled  over  burning  rocks  and 
stones,  and  soon  stood  by  the  waves — the  same  mighty 
rush  of  dark-blue  water — a  nearer  view  of  Olympus ! 
Plunging  my  little  white  umbrella  into  a  pool  amongst 
the  rocks,  in  order  to  defy  the  sun's  ray,  I  rushed  on 
from  stone  to  stone,  forgetting  the  heat,  the  distance 
from  my  party,  my  promise,  every  thing.  Never  had 
I  conceived  any  thing  so  beautiful  and  so  grand ! 
The  sea  and  the  mountains,  and  the  solitary  shore  gar 
landed  with  vineyards  and  pomegranates  and  all  sorts 
of  bright  and  shining  plants.  At  last  I  sat  down  in  a 
beautiful  little  bay. 

So  great  was  the  impression  this  scene  made  upon 
my  mind,  so  keen  the  delight  with  which  I  almost 
desperately  endeavored  to  impress  upon  it  even  the 
smallest  details,  that  even  now  I  have  the  greatest 
pleasure  in  recalling  it,  only  with  a  deep  regret  at  the 
feebleness  of  all  description  in  comparison  to  the 
reality.  I  kept  saying  to  myself,  uln  this  life  I  never 
shall  behold  it  again,"  and  literally  could  not  tear  my 
self  away.  On  many  of  the  smooth  stones  lay  beauti 
ful  pieces  of  sea-weed,  and  several  corallines  of  great 
beauty.  I  tried  to  gather  some  of  these,  but  the  heat 
of  the  sun  had  made  them  brittle,  and  to  my  great 
regret  I  only  preserved  a  few  fragments.  Here  one 
might  think  that  some  of  the  large  stones  had  lain  un 
disturbed  since  the  Deluge.  I  saw  many  petrifactions 
• — in  fact  enough  to  make  one's  heart  ache,  having  no 


EXCUKSIQN   TO   ISMID.  441 

means  of  transporting  them.  However,  I  am  partly 
consoled  while  writing  now,  by  two  pieces  of  stone  on 
my  table  before  me,  one  white  and  the  other  red,  com 
pletely  incrusted  with  fossil-shells,  which  I  managed 
to  carry  off,  together  with  two  small  ones.  I  could 
not  have  come  away  without  some  token  from  this 
lovely  shore. 

I  do  not  know  how  long  I  sat  there,  and  it  seems 
now  a  vivid  and  pleasant  dream  of  the  old  world, 
unchanged  since  the  imperial  galleys  of  Diocletian 
floated  by.  I  remember  tracing  out  the  tracks  of 
snow  on  a  far-off  mountain,  and  thinking  that  shin 
ing  in  the  rays  of  the  evening  sun,  they  looked  like 
silver  streams  broken  loose  from  some  enchanted 
fountain — and  watching  the  lights  and  shadows  on 
the  distant  valleys,  and  suddenly  discovering  a  tiny 
village,  built  of  dark  wood,  nestling  under  a  hang 
ing  pine-forest,  and  its  little  pathway  winding — wind 
ing  through  the  brushwood,  and  thinking  I  should  like 
to  know  all  about  the  solitary  lives  of  the  peasants 
in  this  wild  home,  and  many  other  things.  A  little 
pool  of  the  clearest  water  lay  at  my  feet.  How 
delighted  Edie  would  have  been  to  watch  the  small, 
many-colored  fish  darting  about  in  it,  and  the 
"  soldier-crab  "  (his  small  crimson  body  hanging  out 
of  the  long  spiral  shell  to  which  he  has  fitted  himself,) 
fishing  industriously  for  his  supper  I  I  noticed  one 
remarkably  pretty  crab,  of  a  delicate  salmon-color, 
spotted  richly  with  brown.  He  seemed  a  most  in 
telligent  little  fellow,  and  was  fishing  dexterously 
for  a  tiny  sand-colored  fish,  not  much  larger  than  a 
shrimp.  When  he  succeeded  in  catching  one,  he  buried 
his  little  back  in  the  sand  to  keep  himself  steady,  and 


442  IN   AND  ABOUND  STAMBOUL. 

ate  his  prey  with  great  gusto:  thorn  tidily  and 
briskly  cleaning  his  feelers,  he  bustled  off  sideways  in 
search  of  another  in  the  bright  and  shifting  sand. 
Shining  at  my  feet,  amongst  the  sea-weed,  lay  a 
lovely  purple-lined  shell,  which  I  had  never  seen 
before,  and  was  delighted  to  add  to  my  collection. 
I  thought  of  Tennyson's  exquisite  inquiry  as  to  the 
inmate  of  a  shell  found  on  the  sand,  "void  of  the 
little  living  Will,  that  made  it  stir  on  the  shore :" 

"Did  lie  stand  at  the  diamond  door 
Of  his  house  in  a  rainbow  frill  ? 

Did  he  push,  when  he  was  uncurl'd, 
A  golden  foot  or  a  fairy  horn 

Through  his  dim  water-world?" 

But  every  pleasant  hour  must  come  to  an  end,  so 
I  took  another  wide,  long  look,  put  my  stones  under 
my  arm,  and  my  tender  corallines,  protected  by  sea 
weed,  as  safely  as  I  could  in  my  pocket,  and  bent  my 
steps  toward  the  little  valley  of  the  fig-tree.  Now 
I  began  to  think  that  it  was  a  long  weary  way  off, 
that  they  would  be  frightened  about  me,  and  that 
there  were  Greek  pirates  all  along  the  coast,  they 
said,  in  the  shape  of  the  fishermen  and  others.  Man 
Friday's  footprint  on  the  sand  could  not  have  startled 
Robinson  Crusoe  more  than  a  fine  bunch  of  grapes 
lying  on  a  stone  did  me,  for  I  knew  that  some  wild 
Greek  or  Croat  must  be  near.  However,  on  the  next 
hill  I  saw  Edmund,  who  had  come  to  meet  me,  and  to 
scold,  and  I  was  taken  down  to  the  village  at  a  rapid 
pace,  hugging  my  treasures,  and  feeling  very  much 
like  a  naughty  child  taken  in  the  act  of  straying  and 
birds'-nestino;. 


EXCURSION   TO    ISMID.  443 

We  found  a  detachment  of  our  party  in  the  little 
cafanee,  sipping  coffee  and  lemonade.  They  were  all 
delighted  with  their  several  strolls.  Some  had  been 
into  the  vineyards,  others  up  the  deep  ravine  into  the 
valley  beyond — in  winter,  a  mountain-stream.  There 
were  a  few  fine  Turks  of  the  old  school,  with  mag 
nificent  turbans,  smoking  their  nargilehs  calmly  on 
the  benches.  They  seemed  to  wonder  what  we  were 
about — indeed  to  wonder  exceedingly,  when  they  be 
held  my  stones,  and  fossils,  and  my  tired  looks.  The 
coffee  and  lemonade  were  both  excellently  fragrant 
and  good,  and  after  such  a  tiring  excursion  doubly 
enjoyed.  The  wind  had  now  dropped,  and  we  rested 
pleasantly  in  the  little  cafanee,  listening  to  the  calm 
ripple  of  the  waves  on  the  shore,  and  to  the  deep 
whispered  conversation  of  our  majestic  neighbors, 
sitting  cross-legged  on  the  benches.  Then  we  bade 
adieu  to  these  picturesque  and  kingly  villagers,  and 
stepping  into  the  caiques  were  once  more  on  board 
the  "Sylph." 

We  steamed  rapidly  and  pleasantly  back,  and 
reached  Prinkipo  just  as  the  moon  was  rising,  and 
the  monotonous  evening  songs  of  the  Greeks,  and 
the  twang  of  their  guitars,  were  sounding  from  the 
"  Magyar."  I  hope  my  account  of  a  long  summer's  day 
on  the  shores  of  Asia  will  not  have  tired  you.  My 
chief  pleasure  when  alone  is  in  writing  down  all  that 
has  delighted  me. 


LETTER     LIV. 

THERAPIA — GREEK   VILLAGE — ROMAN    RESERVOIRS — SERVICE   ON   BOARD 

SHIP. 

Therapia,  August  25th,  1856. 

My  dear  Sister : 

We  came  here  on  Thursday,  and  found  the 
cool  breezes  from  the  Black  Sea  very  delightful.  The 
next  morning  Mrs.  Brett,  Captain  Murray,  and  myself 
started  for  the  Forest  of  Belgrade.  We  took  caique 
to  Buyukdere,  where  a  teleki  awaited  us,  drawn  by 
two  wretched  horses,  meant  to  be  white,  but  their 
natural  brilliancy  rather  obscured  by  patches  of  dried 
mud.  Our  driver  was  a  Greek ;  and  a  wild-looking 
Tartar  boy  sat  by  his  side,  and  assisted  in  torturing 
the  animals  into  what  is  commonly  called  a  "jog 
trot."  How  we  envied  Captain  Murray,  galloping 
on  a  bright  bay  at  our  side,  especially  when  one 
terrific  jolt  dashed  Mrs.  Brett's  head  through  one 
of  the  crazy  windows,  and  I  received  a  mild  reproof 
from  the  driver  for  permitting  mine  to  do  the  same 
at  the  next.  We  might  well  enjoy  a  ramble  on  the 
forest,  when  we  got  there,  after  such  a  shaking ! 

We  stoppped  near  the  village,  for  I  was  enchanted 
at  the  sight  of  a  fine  old  fountain,  overshadowed 
with  ancient  trees,  and  in  a  good  state  of  preser 
vation.  Two  Greek  women  stood  there,  in  grace 
ful  attitudes,  and  with  water-vases  on  their  heads, 
just  as  they  must  have  done  in  Lady  Mary  Wort- 
ley  Montague's  time.  Do  you  not  remember  she 

(444) 


FOREST   OF   BELGRADE.  445 

describes  this  fountain,  and  the  villagers  assembling 
around  it  in  the  evening  ?  We  searched  about  the 
forest  for  the  old  Embassy -house  in  which  she  lived, 
and  which  still  exists  in  tolerable  repair,  but  unac 
countably  missed  it,  although  we  were  afterward 
told  that  we  had  been  close  by.  The  villagers  had 
not  even  a  legend  of  either  house  or  lady.  How 
ever,  we  must  go  another  day ;  for  I  would  not  miss 
seeing  it  on  any  account.  We  had  such  a  pleasant 
day,  walking  about  in  the  fine  forest  glades,  richly 
tinted  with  many  bright  shades  of  autumn,  and 
spreading  far  and  wide.  We  made  charming  bou 
quets  of  wild  flowers,  finding  a  very  curious  one — a 
bright  scarlet  bell,  closed  at  the  bottom,  and  contain 
ing  a  single  large  red  berry. 

We  took  luncheon  under  a  noble  horse-chestnut 
tree,  by  one  of  the  great  Roman  Bends,  or  reser 
voirs,  and  pleased  ourselves  with  thinking  that  Lady 
Mary  must  often  have  sat  on  those  very  stones,  be 
neath  its  shade,  and  listened  to  the  roar  of  the  waters, 
as  we  did.  We  lingered,  unwilling  to  depart,  till 
very  late ;  and  positively,  by  bribing  our  ragged  driv 
ers,  we  returned  through  the  woods  at  a  gallop,  al 
though  how  we  escaped  an  overturn  in  the  dark  glades 
and  roughly  cut  paths,  I  cannot  imagine. 

Yesterday  we  heard  service  on  board  the  "  Royal 
Albert,"  Lord  Lyons  kindly  sending  his  own  boat  for 
us.  We  had  the  great  pleasure  of  a  short  chat  with 
his  lordship ;  and  when  Lord  and  Lady  Stratford  ar 
rived,  all  went  on  the  upper  deck.  It  is  a  magnifi 
cent  ship,  and  the  sight  was  a  most  grand  and  im 
pressive  one.  About  eight  hundred  men  were  ranged 
on  the  lower  deck,  sailors  on  one  side  and  marines 
88 


446  IN  AND   ABOUND   STAMBOUL. 

on  the  other,  immense  Union-jacks  forming  a  screen 
behind  them.  The  service  began  with  the  Morning 
Hymn,  sung  by  all  on  board,  and  led  by  the  trained 
band  of  sailors  and  a  few  wind  instruments.  It  was 
almost  too  much  to  bear,  so  profoundly  affecting  was 
the  deep  and  powerful  burst  of  voices  on  the  quiet 
sea,  and  so  far  away  from  home,  of  men  returning 
safe  to  England  after  all  the  dangers  they  had  gone 
through  in  this  terrible  war.  Many  still  bore  traces 
of  severe  wounds ;  almost  all  wore  two  or  three 
medals.  Adieu ! 


LETTEE    LY. 

CLIMATE  AND  SCENERY — PARADISE  OF  THE  GREEKS — BOATING  EXCURSIONS 

THE  MONASTERY  OF  ST.   GEORGE THE  OLD  GARDENER HIS   SUMMER 

RESIDENCE  —  ' '  THE      MAGYAR  ' ' ARMENIAN     AND     GREEK     LADIES 

GREEK    HOMAGE   TO    BEAUTY — BURNING  A  CAIQUE — FISHING   BY  NIGHT. 

Princes'  Island,  September  6th,  1856. 
My  dear  Mr.  Hornby : 

I  find  life  in  the  islands  very  pleasant  in  sum 
mer-time,  even  with  nothing  more  to  occupy  me  than 
the  birds  and  crickets,  and  holiday-making  Greeks. 
Not  having  wings,  and  not  having  learned  to  smoke 
cigarettes  on  a  donkey,  I  idle  about  in  the  "  Edith 
Belina"  from  one  shady  creek  to  another,  or  make  ex 
cursions  to  the  monasteries,  or  to  the  opposite  shore. 
The  days  are  very  long,  for  the  early  mornings  are  so 
deliciously  cool  and  fresh,  and  the  Greeks  so  noisy 
and  restless,  that  sleep  after  five  or  six  would  be 
difficult  even  for  a  dormouse.  I  have  been  up  several 
times  by  daybreak.  It  is  such  a  beautiful  sight  to 
see  the  huge  volumes  of  mist  roll  upward,  the  out 
lines  of  the  opposite  mountains  gradually  revealing 
themselves,  and  the  first  rosy  tints  of  sunrise  steal 
ing  over  the  dark  gray  of  sea  and  land.  When  the 
sun  bursts  forth  in  all  his  splendor,  it  is  a  picture 
indeed,  or  rather  a  series  of  most  beautiful  ones,  from 
the  distant  minaretted  city  to  the  green  islands  near. 
Presently,  by  the  glittering  of  window-panes,  you  can 
mark  tiny  villages  nestled  far  up  the  wild  mountain 
side  opposite,  and  here  and  there  fishing-villages 

(447) 


448  IN   AND   AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

clustering  along  the  shore.  Caiques,  with  their  white 
sails  set,  are  soon  out  and  busy  on  the  blue  waves ; 
the  monotonous  chant  of  the  fishermen  sounds  pleas 
antly  in  the  fresh  morning  air.  Then  a  picturesque- 
looking  Greek  sportsman  steals  by  our  cottage,  his 
gun  on  his  arm,  and  accompanied  by  two  or  three 
dogs  of  irregular  breed,  and  almost  as  wild-looking 
as  himself.  Then  slowly  come  the  shepherds,  their 
mixed  flocks  of  goats  and  sheep  frisking  merrily  to 
the  sound  of  the  tinkling  bells  of  the  "  guides,"  who 
snatch  fragrant  branches  of  the  arbutus  and  cistus 
as  they  go  by.  The  scent  of  the  wild  shrubs  here  is 
very  pleasant,  and  they  grow  in  the  greatest  luxuri 
ance  on  the  stony,  uneven  ground.  I  have  found 
several  varieties  of  heath  in  great  beauty.  There 
being  no  large  trees  on  these  islands,  they  always 
look  most  beautiful  morning  and  evening,  when  the 
sun  is  low,  just  touching  the  sloping  vineyards,  and 
the  short,  dim,  olive-trees ;  and  then,  of  course,  the 
fine  gray  rocks  and  the  ruined  monasteries  above 
seem  to  rise  higher  out  of  the  dark  blue  water. 

The  Greeks  of  Constantinople  consider  Prinkipo  as 
their  paradise  on  earth,  and  begin  a  regular  course  of 
monotonous  amusement  from  the  first  moment  of  their 
arrival ;  which  is  scarcely  varied  for  a  single  day,  up 
to  the  last  instant  of  their  stay.  About  seven  in  the 
morning  all  the  visitors  who  have  not  departed  for 
Pera  by  the  early  steamer,  are  to  be  seen  (if  you  take 
caique  toward  the  village)  wending  to  the  little  wooden 
bathing-houses  on  the  shore.  Some  of  these  people 
have  returned  from  an  early  donkey-ride  up  the  moun 
tain — most  from  the  divan  and  cup  of  coffee.  Through 
all  the  sultry  hours,  until  about  four  or  five  o'clock, 


LIFE   ON   THE   ISLANDS.  449 

everybody  lies  perdu;  not  even  Signor  Giacomo's  Croat 
gardeners  are  to  be  seen,  not  even  his  sun -burnt  chil 
dren — scarcely  a  single  caique  moving  about  on  the 
water ;  only  under  a  large  fir-tree  opposite  our  win 
dows  a  red-capped  shepherd,  fast  asleep,  with  three  or 
four  drowsy  goats  about  him,  and  a  large,  dark  eagle 
or  two  soaring  majestically  about.  The  only  sound  is 
the  ceaseless  chirp  of  the  cicala,  a  deep-toned  grass 
hopper,  which  here  dwells  principally  in  the  fir-trees. 
A  dark  cloud  of  heat  hangs  over  distant  Constanti 
nople.  I  fancy  that,  if  even  we  were  nearer,  we  should 
hear  no  "  city's  hum"  at  mid-day.  My  caique  is  the 
only  busy  thing  about. 

I  do  not  care  the  least  for  the  hottest  day  here. 
With  my  straw  hat  filled  with  vine-leaves,  the  best 
defense  against  the  sun,  and  my  small  and  dripping 
white  umbrella,  immediately  after  bathing,  I  start  on 
some  pleasant  little  excursion.  The  Apple-blossom, 
who  is  really  an  institution,  as  Mr.  Smythe  says,  packs 
up  my  luncheon,  which  Johannachi  carries  in  a  little 
basket.  It  usually  consists  of  part  of  a  chicken,  hid 
den  away  in  cool  lime-tree  leaves,  bread,  and  a  fine 
melon  or  bunch  of  grapes.  There  is  almost  always  a 
pleasant  breeze,  even  in  the  middle  of  the  day ;  the 
sea  sparkles  so  brightly — the  waves  dash  round  the 
rocks  with  such  a  pleasant  sound — the  "  Edith  Belina" 
bounds  so  delightfully  from  point  to  point — the 
mountains  look  so  enchanting  in  the  distance — that, 
lying  on  a  comfortable  cushion,  with  a  book  by  my 
side,  and  no  present  care  at  my  heart,  I  feel  as  gay 
and  as  inclined  to  wander  on  as  the  water  and  air 
about  me.  Sometimes  I  make  the  boatmen  row  as 

close  in  to  the  rocks  as  possible.     These  are  wonder- 
38* 


450  IN  AND  AROUND  STAMBOUL. 

ful  in  variety  of  shape  and  color,  and  what  beautiful 
tints  they  throw  on  the  water !  Sometimes  from  the 
deepest  recesses,  wild  doves  and  pigeons  fly,  startled 
by  the  sound  of  our  oars,  and  then  stop  to  coo  in  the 
next  place  where  cool  water  gurgles  in  the  shade. 
Wild  festoons  of  sea- weed  shade  these  pretty  clefts 
above ;  below,  sea-anemones  and  sea- weeds  of  most 
vivid  and  beautiful  green,  harbor  swarms  of  many- 
tinted  fish,  which  fly,  startled,  as  you  pass.  Now  and 
then  you  find  a  creek  abounding  with  several  kinds 
of  pretty  shells,  and  here  and  there  a  charming  spot 
where  heath  and  cistus  and  arbutus  grow  down  to 
the  very  edge  of  the  rocks.  I  should  not  dislike 
much  to  be  a  Byzantine  banished  princess,  provided 
they  left  me  in  peace  here  with  a  good  caique,  and 
with  liberty  to  do  as  I  liked,  and  allowed  Mr.  Frank 
Buckland  to  pass  a  day  or  two  with  me  occasionally. 
How  startled  the  civilized  world  would  be  with 
tales  of  the  lizards,  rats,  tortoises,  crickets,  sea- weeds, 
butterflies,  ants,  and  frogs  of  this  peculiarly  favored 
spot! 

But  I  must  hasten  to  tell  you  what  you  wished  to 
know — how  one  passes  a  long  summer's  day  in  the 
"  Islands  of  the  Blest."  Well,  sometimes  I  point  to 
a  small  bay,  about  half-way  round  the  island.  My 
sturdy  rowers  pull  rapidly  in.  The  Monastery  of  St. 
George,  perched  on  the  very  highest  peak  of  moun 
tain  above,  looks  no  bigger  than  a  doll's  house,  left 
there  by'  some  spiteful  fairy,  to  be  shaken  by  winter 
tempests  and  scorched  by  summer  glare.  Walking  a 
few  paces  over  the  white  sand  of  the  creek,  you  cross 
a  low  hedge-bank  into  the  deep  shade  of  some  ancient 
fig-trees.  This  is  the  garden  of  the  Monastery.  The 


LIFE    ON   THE   ISLANDS.  451 

lay  brother  must  be  an  active  person  I  should  think,  if 
he  descends  the  mountain  every  morning  for  the  ascetic 
salads.  The  gardener  is  a  remarkably  fine,  pic 
turesque  old  Greek ;  he  always  comes  to  meet  me,  at 
tended  by  his  two  wild,  shaggy  dogs,  helps  the  boat 
men  to  bring  the  cushions  from  the  caique,  and  care 
fully  picks  out  the  coolest  bit  of  shade  under  the  wide- 
spreading  fig-tree.  He  keeps  a  nice  piece  of  matting, 
and  some  antique-shaped  earthen  water-jars  of  spring- 
water,  always  ready  for  the  use  of  occasional  visitors 
to  his  creek.  The  garden  does  not  seem  to  be  very 
productive,  tomatoes  being  the  principal  crop,  with 
here  and  there  a  patch  of  Indian  corn,  or  a  pomegran 
ate-tree,  and  wild-looking  vines  trailing  about,  more 
remarkable  for  beauty  than  promise.  The  fig-trees 
are  evidently  the  glory  and  richness  of  the  place,  and 
beautiful  trees  they  are ;  their  massive  and  deep  green 
leaves  just  letting  in  enough  golden  sunlight  to  make 
pleasant  shadows  beneath.  Johannachi  spreads  the 
luncheon  with  great  glee,  Janko  and  Pandalij  search 
with  the  old  gardener  for  the  finest  figs,  while  I  stroll 
away  to  the  hedgerow  on  the  beach,  in  search  of  speci 
mens  for  my  collection  of  island  plants.  Hundreds  of 
butterflies  and  beetles,  and  strange-looking  purple 
bees  are  humming  over  a  large  scented  plant  with,  a 
lilac  blossom,  of  which  I  know  nothing,  except  that 
the  leaf  very  much  resembles  that  of  a  lupine.  I  must 
send  a  piece  to  my  old  friend  and  teacher  of  botany  in 
pleasant  days  "langsyne,"  Dr.  Arthur  Hassall.  After 
luncheon  I  sit  and  read.  What  thorough  enjoyment 
it  is,  and  how  often  I  wish  it  were  possible  you  could 
spend  a  morning  with  me !  Having  risen  so  early,  by 
eleven  o'clock  I  begin  to  feel  tired,  and  generally  en- 


452  IN   AND   AROUND  STAMBOUL. 

joy  a  sound  sleep  on  the  cushions  under  the  fig-tree ; 
the  caiquejees  slumbering  profoundly  meanwhile  in 
the  "  Edith  Belina,"  and  my  tiny  guard  Johannachi 
either  discussing  melons  and  figs,  or  playing  in  the 
garden  with  the  old  man's  dogs.  By-the-by,  the  gar 
dener's  summer  dwelling-place  particularly  struck  me 
the  first  time  of  seeing  it.  Two  or  three  planks  were 
placed  across  some  stout  benches  in  the  middle  of  an 
ancient  fig-tree,  opposite  to  those  under  which  I  am 
sitting.  A  Turkish  quilt  is  neatly  folded  up  upon 
them.  Above  this  primitive  bed,  a  piece  of  thick  mat 
ting  is  hung,  as  a  screen  in  case  of  a  shower.  Two  or 
three  brackets  of  rough  wood  are  nailed  up  within 
reach.  On  one  is  a  water -jar,  on  another  a  horn  spoon. 
The  poor  old  man's  slippers  are  neatly  placed  on  a 
small  piece  of  matting  at  the  foot  of  the  tree,  arid  two 
or  three  ancient  garments  hang  on  a  broken  branch 
close  by.  This  fig-tree  completely  tells  the  story  of  his 
simple  life  and  few  wants — jfteasant  enough,  I  should 
think,  in  that  lovely  spot,  with  his  faithful  dogs  and 
cheerful  garden-work,  had  he  books  and  a  knowledge 
of  them.  If  I  ever  turn  recluse,  it  shall  be  in  the 
Princes'  Isles.  In  fact,  the  East  must  be  a  most  per 
fect  refuge  for  any  one  tired  of  "  the  world,"  or  not 
having  enough  to  exist  on  in  it.  How  much  bettter 
a  garden  and  cave,  or  fig-tree  here,  with  a  knowledge 
of  "  simples,"  a  reputation  of  being  "  uncanny,"  and 
the  tender  regard  of  the  country-people  in  conse 
quence  (who  would  provide  melons,  and  figs,  and  rice, 
in  consideration  and  out  of  respect  for  your  necro 
mancy  and  your  star-gazings  toward  Olympus),  than 
the  paltry  battle  of  life  in  a  great  city !  I  think  I 
shall  set  about  founding  a  sect  of  female  Dervishes 


LIFE   ON  THE  ISLANDS.  453 

composed  of  ill-used,  distressed  governesses,  com 
panions,  and  portionless  daughters — kind,  pitying 
young  Dervishesses,  who  would  put  by  their  musings 
and  missals,  and  cross  a  mountain  now  and  then,  to 
help  the  poor,  ignorant,  helpless  people  who  believe  in 
them.  The  Superiors  should  be  elected  from  the  sen 
sible  girls  who  preferred  this  sort  of  life  to  a  marriage 
de  convenance,  or  to  an  undignified  dependence.  What 
do  you  think  of  my  plan  ?  I  know  one  or  two  young 
ladies  to  whom  I  should  very  much  like  to  propose 
it.  Fancy  Louisa  or  Stella,  attired  in  serge,  in  my 
fig-tree !  One  has  plenty  of  time  to  dream  away 
here — different  from  the  constant  movement  and  oc 
cupation  of  life  in  England.  With  a  few  dear  friends 
within  reach,  this  calm  and  freedom  would  be  perfect. 
But  I  must  continue  my  account  of  a  day  in  the 
Islands. 

By  the  time  the  sun  begins  to  dip  a  little,  we  gather 
up  cushions  and  books,  and  rouse  the  boatmen.  Jo- 
hannachi  and  I  ramble  on  shore  while  the  "  Edith 
Belina"  is  made  ready.  Sometimes  we  find  shells  for 
Edith's  collection,  sometimes  small  pieces  of  malachite. 
Oh,  if  Danby  could  see  the  glow  of  purple  and  gold 
over  the  sands  and  rocks,  and  over  our  pretty  caique 
and  her  Greeks ! 

We  run  away  in  that  gorgeous  light,  waving  an 
adieu  to  the  kind  old  man,  and  his  dogs  who  stand 
with  friendly  waggings  at  his  side.  He  little  knows 
what  a  picture  he  makes  there,  standing  on  the  shore 
until  we  are  almost  out  of  sight.  We  soon  land  in 
our  own  creek,  almost  as  lonely  as  Eobinson  Crusoe's ; 
but  by  the  time  I  reach  the  top  of  the  hill,  I  see  that 
all  the  beauty  and  fashion  of  Prinkipo  is  astir  again. 


454  IN   AND   ABOUND   STAMBOUL. 

The  steamer  is  seen  coming  in  from  Pera,  and  Greek 
and  Armenian  ladies,  with,  bright  parasols  over  their 
heads,  are  hastening  down  to  the  "Magyar,"  at  the 
pier,  to  meet  their  husbands  and  brothers,  to  smoke 
cigarettes,  drink  lemonade  and  sherbet,  and  eat  wal 
nuts  ready  cracked  and  pealed,  which  are  handed 
about  in  glass  water -jars  by  dirty  Greek  boys,  at  about 
twenty  a  piastre. 

The  "  Magyar"  is  a  kind  of  open-air  coffee-house, 
which  from  morning  till  night  is  seldom  quite  de 
serted,  but  which  is  crowded  with  men,  women,  and 
children  of  an  evening,  when  there  is  generally  some 
kind  of  barbarous  music  as  an  accompaniment  to  the 
smoking.  I  never  notice  much  conversation  going 
on.  The  men  are  drinking  raid  among  themselves — 
the  women  bedizened  with  all  their  little  stock  of 
finery,  Eastern  and  European,  staring  at  the  men,  but 
particularly  at  passing  strangers.  They  really  do  not 
seem  as  if  they  had  esprit  enough  to  plague  each 
other,  or  even  to  talk  scandal !  It  is  an  amusing  scene 
for  once ;  but  once  is  enough,  for  there  is  much  that 
is  painful.  There  is  a  Greek  girl  of  seventeen,  who 
ought  to  be  extremely  beautiful,  and  naturally  as  pale 
as  marble.  She  has  heard  of  English  ball-dresses,  and 
perhaps  heard  the  English  complexion  admired,  so 
she  has  thrown  off  the  beautiful  Greek  dress  in  which 
I  am  told  she  looked  lovely  a  year  ago,  put  on  an  ill- 
made  low  dress,  and  painted  her  cheeks  a  light  brick- 
dust  color.  Then  came  long  rows  of  Armenian  and 
Greek  ladies,  stars  of  fashion  and  caricatures  of  the 
worst  style  of  French  dress ;  then  ancient  dames,  who, 
discarding  the  trowsers  of  old,  have  adopted  half 
measures,  and  content  themselves  with  flounced  dresses 


LIFE   ON   THE   ISLANDS.  455 

— retaining  the  fery  or  handkerchief  on  the  head, 
and  indulging  occasionally  in  a  cigarette ;  then,  chil 
dren,  poor  little  things,  dressed  up  in  the  most  ridicu 
lous  manner  in  the  world,  so  bedizened  that  you  can 
scarcely  see  them,  and  the  dirt  beneath  the  finery — • 
then  a  grave  Turk  or  two  walking  quietly  apart — 
Greek  nurses — sherbet  and  fruit- sellers — noisy  boys, 
dogs,  waiters  and  caiques  —  all  huddled  up  in  a 
close  atmosphere  of  tobacco  and  raid.  There  are 
three  or  four  Magyars  at  Prinkipo.  The  largest  is 
close  to  the  pier — merely  a  covered  way,  but  this  is 
the  most  fashionable,  as  the  ladies  vie  with  one  another 
for  the  foremost  places  on  the  benches,  and  little 
wooden  stools,  so  that  they  may  be  well  seen  by  those 
who  arrive  by  the  steamer.  But  there  is  one  very  pretty 
Magyar  in  the  heart  of  the  village ;  it  is  held  under 
the  wide-spreading  branches  of  a  magnificent  plane- 
tree  ;  a  wooden  seat  is  fixed  all  round  the  "  giant 
bole,"  and  dozens  of  little  wooden  stools  are  scattered 
about  within  the  shade.  At  night  the  lower  boughs 
are  lighted  up  with  lamps,  and  the  picturesque  groups 
of  smokers  and  coffee-drinkers  are  really  very  striking 
in  the  broad  light  and  shadow.  Quaint,  tumble-down 
rows  of  wooden  houses  lie  in  the  shade  on  either  side  ; 
here  and  there  is  a  cafanee,  filled  with  noisy  drinkers, 
and  lighted  with  the  fitful  glare  of  torches.  Kows  of 
silent  Greek  and  Armenian  ladies  may  be  made  out, 
sitting  under  the  old  trellised  vines  outside — perhaps 
listening  to  the  most  horrid  scraping  and  groaning  of 
the  "  Band"  opposite  ;  perhaps  enjoying  themselves, 
but  they  do  not  give  any  evidence  of  it.  There  are 
two  or  three  beauties  here  this  season  ;  but,  except  to 
Greek  eyes,  it  is  difficult  to  discover  them  by  the 


456  IN  AND  AROUND  STAMBOUL. 

glaring  and  irregular  light  of  the  tree  larrups  at  the 
Magyar,  even  when  dozens  of  madahs  are  burning  in 
their  honor.  The  madahs  are  torches,  which  burn 
with  a  blue  light  not  very  favorable  to  any  style  of 
beauty  but  a  spectral  one. 

When  an  admirer  wishes  to  please  the  object  of  his 
particular  devotion  for  the  evening,  he  whispers  to 
the  master  of  the  cafanee  to  burn  so  many  piastres' 
worth  of  madahs  opposite  such   and   such  a   bench. 
The  motley  crowds  strolling  up  and  down  the  houses, 
the  smokers,  the  rows  of  ladies,  and   above   all   the 
Beauty,  are  instantly  lighted   up  in  a  glare  of   the 
most  unearthly  hue.     The  dark  eyes  of  all  the  other 
ladies  turn  with  envy  to  the  object  of  this  homage ; 
the  adorer  makes  a  profound  Eastern  bow  toward  the 
bench  on  which  she  is  seated.    It  is  almost  dark  again, 
but  the  fiddlers  scrape  on.     The  next  morning  you  V. 
people   say :    "  So-and-so   had   two    hundred    madahs 
burned   for   her   last   night   by  So-and-So."     I   have 
heard  that  twenty  or  thirty  pounds  have  on  particular 
occasions  been  spent  by  a  rich  and  enthusiastic  young 
Greek  for   a  very   great   Beauty ;    but   an   ordinary 
amount  of  gallantry  is   expressed  in  a  few  piastres' 
worth  of  blue  light.   When  kind  Lord  Lyons  brought 
all  his  midshipmen  down  here  for  a  treat  the  other 
day,  he   burned   so   many   madahs,  in   honor   of  the 
ladies  generally,  that  half  the   heads  in  the  Islands 
were  turned  by  this  homage  from  the  great  English 
admiral.     His   lordship   left   about  ten.   o'clock,  in  a 
beautifully  illuminated  steamer,  which  we  watched  far 
on  its  way  back  to  Constantinople.     The  boys  were 
delighted  with  the  trip,  and  their  loud  huzzas  were 
heard  on  shore  when  the  vessel  was  some  distance 


LIFE   ON  THE   ISLANDS.  457 

out  at  sea.  The  word  madah  means  "moonlight," 
but  I  am  afraid  Endymion  would  be  disgusted  at  the 
very  idea  of  a  Magyar.  In  hot  weather  it  is  kept  up 
all  night.  I  do  not  know  how  late  the  ladies  stay, 
but  the  men  gamble  and  drink  raki  and  smoke  hour 
after  hour.  Often  when  the  fresh  dawn  is  breaking,  I 
still  hear  the  discordant  notes  of  the  droning  music, 
borne  over  the  water  from  Halki.  I  suppose  this  is  a 
Greek  form  of  pleasure. 

"We  have  been  down  to  the  village  in  an  evening 
three  or  four  times,  just  to  see  what  was  going  on. 
The  first  night  of  our  arrival,  it  was  a  kind  of  annual 
festival,  when  a  caique  is  burned  on  the  shore,  as  a 
peace-offering  to  malignant  sea-spirits.  The  blaze  of 
the  burning  boat  spread  far  and  wide,  and  groups  of 
fishermen  and  caiquejees  in  their  picturesque  dress 
were  very  striking.  They  afterward  joined  hands, 
and  forming  a  wide  ring  danced  round,  to  a  rude  and 
measured  kind  of  chanting.  Their  movements  were 
extremely  awkward  and  clownish,  and  the  shouting 
any  thing  but  harmonious — but  this,  I  was  told,  was 
ancient  Eomaika.  The  whole  scene  would  have  been 
very  fine  on  a  vase. 

I  came  home  at  about  mid-day  from  Maltape  a 
village  on  the  opposite  shore,  and  have  not  stirred 
from  my  desk  since.  The  steamer  is  very  near  the 
island,  and  I  see  the  caique  with  its  little  red  flag 
going  out  to  meet  her  at  Halki,  which  saves  Edmund 
the  steep  walk  up  hither  from  the  village. 

Our  caiquejees   make  it  a  point  of  honor  for  our 

boat  to  be  first,   and  woe   betide   any  caique  which 

attempts  to  pass  the  "  Edith  Belina !"     What  a  strain 

she  gets  for  nothing  \     Mr.  W.  Tyrone  Power  is  com- 

39 


458  IN  AND   ABOUND  STAMBOUL. 

ing  down  again  to-day,  to  stay  a  day  or  two — at  least 
if  the  mosquitos  will  allow  him.  We  find  him  an  ex 
tremely  agreeable  companion.  He  has  just  come  from 
Circassia,  and  has  charmed  me  with  his  account  of  its 
shepherd  warriors.  There  the  mountaineer  defends 
his  own  family — makes  not  only  his  own  powder,  but 
his  own  gun — shoes  and  dresses  his  own  horse — 
shoots  his  own  particular  Russian  enemy — is  remark 
able  for  beauty,  hardihood,  and  intelligence !  I  shall 
ask  more  about  them,  and  about  the  renowned  chief, 
Schamyl,  when  we  stroll  by  the  sea-side  in  the  quiet 
part  of  the  island  this  evening,  for  so'will  end  our  day. 
We  always  stay  to  watch  the  beautiful  tints  on  the 
mountains  and  waves  while  they  last,  and  then  return 
home  to  tea.  As  soon  as  it  is  dark,  fishing  caiques 
appear  with  lights  on  board,  which  are  used  to  decoy 
a  particular  kind  of  fish.  They  look  so  pretty,  rising 
and  falling  on  the  sea  in  the  soft  gray  of  nierht 


LETTEE    LVI. 

EXCURSION     TO     MALTAPE  —  GREEK     WOMEN     AND     TURKISH     CAFANEE 

MARBLE     FOUNTAIN ANCIENT     TREE THE     MOSQUE THE     IMAUM  — 

VILLAGE    SCHOOL— TURKISH    WOMEN CURIOUS    LAMP. 

The  Islands,  August  28tli,  1856. 
My  dear  Mr.  Hornby  : 

My  last  excursion  was  with  Mr.  Gisborne  to 
Maltape,  a  fishing-village  on  the  Asiatic  coast  oppo 
site.  There  are  several  larger  ones  further  inland, 
nestling  in  the  sides  of  the  mountain,  but  it  would  not 
be  safe  to  go  so  far  without  a  strong  escort.  Some 
brigands  robbed  and  murdered  a  poor  man  from  Halki 
there  but  a  few  days  ago.  They  supposed  that  he  had 
a  large  sum  of  money  about  him,  and  said  they  were 
very  sorry  he  was  shot,  as  he  lay  dying  upon  the 
ground!  His  companion  was  allowed  to  depart  in 
peace,  with  many  polite  expressions  of  regret.  Since 
hearing  this,  I  take  Eugenio  with  me  well-armed 
whenever  I  go  to  Maltape.  It  is  a  pleasant  sail  across 
when  we  get  a  fair  wind.  The  fishermen's  children 
playing  on  the  shore  run  down  to'  the  crazy  little 
wooden  pier  of  Maltape  to  see  us  come  in ;  some  of 
them  are  pretty  little  creatures,  but  sadly  neglected 
and  dirty.  Numbers  of  the  youngest  were  mere 
babes,  sleeping  in  the  sand  by  the  wooden  walls  of 
the  Cafanee,  beside  the  street  dogs,  who  had  scraped 
themselves  comfortable  nests  there.  Squalid,  wretched- 
looking  Greek  women  peeped  out  of  the  broken  case 
ments  of  their  tumble-down  wooden  houses  at  us. 

(459) 


460  IN    AND   ABOUND   STAMBOUL. 

Some  of  them  might  have  been  extremely  handsome, 
but  hard  work,  poor  food,  and  utter  neglect  had  only 
left  a  harsh  outline  of  the  fine  features  which  nature 
had  given  them.  Such  women  at  twenty  have  lost  all 
trace  of  youth.  Don't  talk  of  witches,  until  you  have 
seen  some  of  the  old  ones !  Many  of  the  girls  of  ten 
or  twelve  here  are  beautiful — at  least  would  be,  if  they 
were  washed,  and  their  long  plaits  of  rough  black  hair 
combed.  Lower  down  on  the  shore,  numbers  of  the 
womankind  of  Maltape  were  gathering  fish  in  baskets 
from  some  large  caiques ;  others  were  washing  coarse 
garments  in  the  waves,  which  came  rippling  gently 
round  their  bare  feet.  A  few  idle  young  girls,  with 
gay  handkerchiefs  on  their  heads,  were  lolling  in  the 
sun  at  their  doos,  before  which  some  brigand-looking 
Greeks  were  smoking  on  benches,  under  the  usual 
trellis  and  vine-tree. 

Further  on  was  a  Turkish  cafanee,  and  three  or 
four  Turks  were  calmly  enjoying  their  narghilies. 
They  were  of  the  old  school,  and  looked  majestic  in 
their  beards  and  turbans.  We  sat  down  at  a  little 
distance,  and  Eugenio  brought  us  coffee  from  the 
curious  old  China  fireplace  within.  We  bowed,  and 
they  bowed ;  they  seemed  to  enjoy  our  society,  and 
we  enjoyed  theirs ;  we  enjoyed  the  view  of  sea  and 
land,  so  did  they ;  language  did  not  seem  to  be  of 
the  least  consequence  to  such  dignified,  thoughtful 
people.  The  only  sound  was  the  ripple  of  the  waves 
on  the  shore,  the  gurgle  of  the  narghilies  at  their 
feet,  and  the  twitter  of  swallows,  so  tame  that  they 
sat  on  a  little  wooden  ledge  just  above  the  heads  of 
the  men,  and  on  the  rails  of  the  bench  beside  them. 
It  was  quite  touching  to  see  the  confidence  which 


EXCUKSION   TO   MALTAPK.  461 

they  showed  in  these  kind  and  simple  people.  We 
paid  the  quaint  master  of  the  cafanee  for  the  coffee, 
(I  believe  Eugenio  had  solaced  himself  with  a  chi 
bouque  in  some  mysterious  corner,)  and  then  went  to 
explore  the  centre  of  the  village,  leaving  the  boat 
men  to  enjoy  themselves  after  their  own  hearts  in 
a  rough  wooden  cafanee  overhanging  the  sea,  where 
they  could  meditate  amid  clouds  of  smoke  on  the 
superior  merits  of  the  "  Edith  Belina"  dancing  below, 
over  those  of  all  other  caiques,  fishing  or  otherwise. 

In  the  very  heart  of  the  village,  shaded  by  a  fine 
old  tree,  stands  a  large  fountain  of  white  marble,  with 
inscriptions  all  around.  It  must  once  have  been  a 
very  fine  one,  but  is  fallen  sadly  to  decay ;  weeds  and 
rank  grass  grow  on  the  top,  overhang  the  once  illu 
minated  letters,  and  stop  the  course  of  the  water, 
which  streams  over  the  ground,  instead  of  flowing 
into  the  little  open  tanks  designed  for  the  use  of  the 
thirsty  traveler  by. the  Hadji  (pilgrim)  who  built  it. 
Some  Greek  girls  were  filling  their  pitchers  there,  and 
a  sturdy  villager  looking  on.  We  begged  Eugenio 
to  say  to  him  what  a  pity  we  thought  it  that  they 
did  not  repair  such  a  magnificent  fountain — it  might 
be  so  easily  done.  It  now  flooded  the  principal  path, 
and  gave  the  women  who  came  to  draw  water  so  much 
difficulty  in  wading  through  the  mud,  especially  the 
poor  girls  with  bare  feet.  He  answered  all  we  could 
say  to  rouse  his  pride,  or  humanity,  or  common  sense, 
with  a  shrug  of  the  shoulders ;  which  I  suppose  the 
whole  village  of  them  would  do. 

Opposite  the  fountain,  on  the  other  side  of  the 
square  which  forms  the  centre  of  the  place,  is  one  of 
the  most  magnificent  old  trees  I  have  ever  seen,  evi- 
39* 


462  IN   AND   AROUND  STAMBOUL. 

dently  of  great  antiquity.  Its  branches  are  prodigious, 
Eound  the  trunk  is  the  usual  rude  wooden  bench ;  and 
two  or  three  rows  of  benches  placed  further  out  have 
no  doubt  received  the  principal  part  of  the  villagers 
of  an  evening,  through  many  generations  of  smokers 
and  coffee-drinkers,  long  since  passed  away.  Close  by 
is  a  raised  fire-place  for  making  coffee,  and  supplying 
charcoal  to  light  the  pipes:  it  is  made  of  clay  and 
stones,  and  lined  with  blue  tiles  of  a  curious  pattern. 

This  is  a  most  primitive  and  interesting  old  place, 
poor  and  ruinous  as  it  is;  and,  as  if  to  complete  the 
picture  formed  by  the  ancient  trees,  and  fountain,  and 
hearth,  a  rude  wagon  crossed  the  square  as  we  sat 
there,  drawn  by  two  snow-white  oxen,  strangely  yoked 
and  adorned,  and  led  by  a  gem  of  an  old  Turk,  white 
beard,  rich  turban  and  all.  How  I  wish  that  some 
great  artist  would  come  here,  that  the  eyes  of  genera 
tions  to  come  might  be  charmed  with  these  Old  World 
nooks,  and  with  the  harmony  and  richness  of  coloring, 
and  the  dignity  of  bearing  among  a  few  of  the  people 
still  remaining,  which  is  rapidly  diappearing  before 
Western  progress,  and  its  hideous  "civilized"  attire! 
But  the  crazy  ox-car  rumbled  and  groaned  on  toward 
the  fields,  out  of  sight,  and  the  picture  of  a  thousand 
years  ago  is  gone,  with  many  regrets  on  my  part  that 
I  can  only  give  you  this  faint  idea  of  it  with  my  pen. 
As  for  myself,  if  I  never  see  the  East  again,  I  have 
but  to  shut  my  eyes  to  possess  a  picture  gallery.  But 
I  ought  to  tell  you  that,  even  knowing  your  tastes  as 
I  do,  my  heart  has  sometimes  failed  me  a  little  in 
writing  these  long  letters,  when  I  think  of  the  people 
who  have  visited  the  same  places,  and  made  the  same 
excursions  as  myself,  who  have  seen  nothing  in  them, 


EXCURSION   TO   MALTAPE.  463 

and  whose  account  would  only  agree  with  mine  as  to 
the  wretched  appearance  of  the  villages  and  the  people. 
However,  I  can  only  write  as  my  own  eyes  see  things, 
and  according  to  the  impression  which  the  country  has 
produced  on  my  own  mind ;  and  as  it  amuses  you  all, 
there  will  be  no  great  harm  done. 

The  mosque  of  the  village  is  a  very  small  one,  for 
the  population  consists  principally  of  Greeks.  There 
was  a  kind  of  open  porch  before  it,  and  we  sat  down 
to  rest.  The  door  of  the  mosque  was  open,  so  pre 
sently  I  put  off  my  shoes  and  walked  in,  very  much 
to  the  surprise  of  a  poor  Turk,  who  was  doing  some 
thing  to  the  lamps  in  a  very  desponding  way.  The 
mosque  looked  very  shabby  and  very  poor.  Over  the 
pulpit  is  suspended  the  usual  piece  of  carved  wood, 
shaped  like  a  minaret.  Hoop-shaped  lamps,  and 
numbers  of  large  painted  ostrich  eggs,  hang  from  the 
ceiling.  On  my  return  to  the  porch,  the  Imaum  him 
self  came,  saluted  us,  and  making  us  a  sign  to  be 
seated,  sat  down  himself  on  the  opposite  bench,  filled 
his  chibouque,  and  evidently  prepared  for  a  chat. 
Eugenia,  who  speaks  Turkish,  interpreted  the  con 
versation,  which  amounted  to — We  were  welcome — 
Where  did  we  come  from  ? — and  a  desire  to  hear  all 
about  the  English  troops, — Was  it  really  true  that  war 
with  Russia  had  ended?  We  told  him  all  the  mili 
tary  intelligence  we  knew,  and  then  in  our  turn  asked 
who  built  the  fine  marble  fountain  close  by,  and  who 
left  it  to  decay  ?  Hadji  somebody,  a  very  famous 
pilgrim,  built  it,  he  said,  only  about  a  hundred  years 
ago.  He,  the  Hadji,  was  a  great  benefactor  to  the  vil 
lage  altogether ;  but  now  it  was  very  poor,  and  there 
were  but  few  of  his  religion  in  it,  to  keep  up  the 


464  IN   AND  AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

mosque  and  fountain.  I  was  glad  to  find  th.it  he  was 
concerned  at  a  stranger  seeing  it  in  such  neglect  and 
decay.  It  is  one  of  the  saddest  things  here  to  find 
how  little  the  people  care  generally  either  for  the  past 
or  the  future.  "If  I  were  the  Sultan,  I  would  repair 
the  old  mosques  and  fountains,  instead  of  building  new 
ones,"  I  said  to  our  new  friend,  who  only  shook  his 
head  and  smiled  a  placid  Eastern  smile,  as  he  caressed 
his  chibouque.  It  seems  like  talking  against  destiny 
to  wish  any  thing  saved  from  ruin  here ! 

As  we  sat  quietly  talking,  I  heard  a  kind  of  chant 
ing  in  children's  voices,  not  very  far  off,  and  asked 
what  it  was.  The  Imaum  replied  that  it  was  the  little 
ones  of  his  school,  learning  their  lessons.  I  said  I 
should  very  much  like  to  see  a  Turkish  school.  He 
said  kindly  that  it  was  but  a  poor  one,  but  that  I  was 
most  welcome.  Accordingly  we  crossed  a  small  ruined 
court,  and  entered  the  walls  of  a  building  which  had 
evidently  been  burnt,  all  but  the  stones  and  mortar, 
years  before.  Up  a  crazy  stair-case,  made  of  rough 
deal,  we  crept  to  a  sort  of  loft,  the  planks  of  which 
were  so  wide  apart  that  you  could  plainly  see  through 
to  the  ruin  beneath.  The  stairs  were  so  shaky,  I  fully 
expected  that  Mr.  Gisborne,  myself,  the  Imaum,  the 
Muezzin  who  followed,  Eugenio  and  all,  would  fall 
through  together.  However  we  got  into  the  school 
room  in  safety,  and  the  sight  of  it  was  well  worth  the 
trouble.  It  was  neatness  itself,  though  the  only  win 
dow  was  unglazed,  and  the  deal  walls  only  adorned 
here  and  there  with  pieces  of  rough  pasteboard,  on 
which  were  inscribed  texts  from  the  Koran.  Two 
planks  were  placed  about  a  foot  from  the  ground, 
down  the  centre  of  the  room,  and  some  very  charming 


EXCUKSION  TO  MALTAPE.          465 

little  girls  sat  at  either  side  of  one  of  them,  and  seven 
or  eight  boys  at  the  other.  They  all  sat  cross-legged 
on  white  sheepskins:  each  had  a  book  before  him, 
and  the  Imaum  explained  that  each  was  chanting  the 
same  verse  of  the  Koran,  until  they  all  knew  it  by 
heart.  I  should  think  that  none  of  them  were  more 
than,  seven  or  eight  years  of  age.  Nothing  could  be 
more  charming  than  the  behavior  of  the  little  girls. 
The  one  at  the  end  of  the  row,  and  nearest  to  me, 
motioned  me  to  take  a  seat  on  her  sheepskin,  upon 
my  asking  what  they  were  learning,  and  my  question 
being  translated  to  her.  Pointing  out  the  verse,  she 
chanted  it  softly  over.  Seeing  that  it  pleased  us,  the 
dear  little  things  all  took  it  up,  and  repeated  it  over 
and  over,  until  the  Imaum,  smiling  at  the  door,  evi 
dently  said  "  Enough !"  The  girls  all  pressed  round 
my  sheepskin,  to  show  their  neat  books,  and  the  boys 
soon  joined  the  little  crowd.  The  Imaurn  tried  to 
call  them  off,  but  Mr.  Gisborne,  as  well  as  myself,  was 
delighted,  and  they  soon  laughed  freely  and  seemed 
much  amused  with  strangers — about  as  rare  to  them 
as  white  camels,  I  suppose.  I  asked  the  name  of  my 
partner  in  the  sheepskin  ;  "  Ayesha,"  she  said,  raising 
her  shy  dark  eyes  to  mine.  I  assure  you  this  child 
was  perfectly  beautiful, — her  eyes  and  lashes  wonder 
ful,  her  simple  manners  and  grace  more  enchanting 
than  those  of  the  sweetest  fabled  princess  you  ever 
dreamed  of.  I  held  her  hand,  as  we  sat  on  the  little 
mat ;  poor  child,  I  could  not  take  my  eyes  off  her, 
thinking  of  her  probable  fate  in  that  miserable  vil 
lage.  I  could  not  make  up  my  mind  to  leave  her, 
and  said  to  Eugenio,  u  Ask  her  if  she  will  come  to 
England  with  me."  Her  rich,  soft  Turkish  sounded 


466  IN   AND   ABOUND   STAMBOUL. 

so  musically  as  she  uttered  the  simple  and  touching 
words ;  u  I  am  the  only  child  of  my  mother,  or  I 
would."  One  or  two  of  the  little  girls  were  ex 
tremely  pretty,  with  long  plaits  of  dark  hair  nearly 
reaching  to  the  ground,  but  not  to  be  compared  with 
Ayesha.  The  boys  were  sturdy  little  fellows ;  I  asked 
all  their  names, — one  was  called  Hamed,  another  Mo 
hammed.  They  were  coarsely  dressed,  but  very  tidy 
and  clean,  and  one  or  two  were  adorned  with  bright 
scarlet  fezzes.  Altogether  the  school  did  the  poor 
Iinaum  great  credit,  and  the  children  seemed  very 
happy  and  good  under  his  gentle  rule.  He  made 
them  chant  some  favorite  verse  for  me,  which  I  was 
sorry  not  to  understand.  But  at  last  we  were  obliged 
to  say  good-by,  even  to  Ayesha,  and  left  them  all 
looking  very  happy  at  the  little  fistful  of  piastres 
which  Mr.  Gisborne  asked  leave  of  the  good  Imaum 
to  give  to  each. 

We  then  walked  far  along  the  shore,  sending  the 
"  Edith  Belina"  round  to  meet  us  at  a  large  garden 
there.  The  men  brought  out  the  cushions  and  the 
luncheon,  which  Eugenio  spread  under  the  shade  of 
a  plane-tree.  It  was  a  very  pretty  spot ;  for  a  large 
vine  had  festooned  itself  round  the  tree,  and  its  long 
tendrils  waved  in  the  cool  sea-breeze.  Close  by  was 
an  enormous  well,  with  an  old  Egyptian  water-wheel, 
like  those  which  are  used  on  the  Nile.  Two  or  three 
poor  Turkish  women  were  gathering  a  few  tomatoes  in 
the  garden,  which  seemed  to  belong  to  the  village.  I 
gave  them  some  grapes,  and  some  white  bread,  and 
they  seemed  inclined  to  be  very  sociable  with  me,  but, 
although  vailed,  would  come  near  nothing  masculine ; 
so,  as  I  could  get  no  interpreting  from  Eugenio, 


EXCURSION  TO   MALTAPE.  467 

our  mutual  friendliness  was  limited  to  smiles,  signs 
of  regret,  and  a  waive  of  adieu.  How  glad  I  should 
be  to  speak  Turkish  well!  I  think  Mr.  Gisborne 
enjoyed  his  ramble  very  much.  We  sailed  home  in 
a  magnificent  sunset;  the  water  blue;  the  sky  and 
mountains,  every  shade  of  rose-color. 

I  had  almost  forgotten  to  tell  you  that  the  kind 
Imaum  gave  me  a  curious  little  lamp,  such  as  they 
use  in  the  mosques  at  Ramazan  and  other  festivals; 
it  is  of  a  coarse  kind  of  porcelain,  something  in  the 
shape  of  a  pine-apple,  with  little  holes  for  small  wax 
candles  all  round  it.  He  tells  me  that  in  rich 
mosques  they  are  made  of  gold  or  silver.  I  assured 
him  that  I  should  prize  this  one  very  much,  which 
seemed  to  please  him.  What  do  you  think  of  this 
conquest  of  a  Giaour  over  a  true  Believer — on  the 
Asiatic  coast  too ! 


LETTBE    LYII. 

OLD  CHURCHES  AND  MONASTERIES — ANCIENT  MANUSCRIPT— TOMB  OP  ST. 
GEORGE — PICTURE  OF  ST.  GEORGE  AND  THE  DRAGON — DONKEY  PROCES 
SIONS A  GREEK  BEAUTY THE  SUPERIOR  OF  THE  MONASTERY — • 

CURIOUS  PAINTINGS — LEGEND — LUNATICS — TREE-FROGS. 

Prinkipo,  September  2d,  1856. 

My  dear  Sister : 

I  send  you  this  account  of  another  day  of  my 
idle  life  here,  because  I  know  you  like  any  thing 
appertaining  to  old  churches  and  monasteries,  and 
because  whenever  I  visit  them,  the  only  drawback  is 
that  you  are  not  with  rne.  Of  course  you  know  that 
there  is  nothing  in  an  architectural  point  of  view,  as 
Mr.  Pecksniff  would  say,  to  admire  in  either ;  but  they 
are  so  beautifully  situated,  contain  so  many  relics  of 
the  earliest  days  of  Christianity,  and  old  in  them 
selves,  have  so  risen  out  of  the  ashes  of  the  very 
earliest  persecuted  Christian  churches ;  and,  with  all 
their  poor  tinsel,  and  false  carving,  and  daubed  pic 
tures  of  Saints,  they  carry  the  mind  so  vividly  back 
to  past  centuries,  that  one  cannot  but  feel  a  very  deep 
and  peculiar  interest  in  them.  I  felt  this  most 
strongly  at  Jesu  Cristo,  when  my  good  friend  the 
monk  there  unlocked  from  an  ancient  chest,  and 
allowed  me  to  look  over  a  copy  of  the  Scriptures, 
written  on  a  kind  of  parchment,  and,  according  to  the 
tradition,  dating  even  from  the  days  of  the  Apostles 
themselves.  The  Brotherhood  has  had  some  difficulty 
in  keeping  this  manuscript ;  but,  though  very  poor, 

(468) 


CHURCHES   AND    MONASTERIES.  469 

never  yielded  to  the  temptation  of  selling  it.  Its 
value  is  however  lessened  by  the  shameful  conduct  of 
a  Kussian  traveler,  who  upon  being  shown  it  some 
years  ago,  contrived  unseen  to  cut  away  a  leaf  here 
and  there.  The  other  monasteries  here  possess  no 
manuscripts  of  any  antiquity.  They  were  all  destroyed 
when  Byzantium  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  Moslems, 
the  monks  tell  me ;  but  at  St.  Nicholas  at  Prinkipo, 
and  St.  George  at  Halki,  are  some  very  old  and  curious 
crosses  of  silver  and  carved  wood,  although  the  jewels 
with  which  they  were  once  adorned  have  been  taken 
out  ages  ago. 

I  have  been  three  times  to  the  Monastery  of  St. 
George  here,  founded  by  the  celebrated  Empress  Irene. 
The  first  day  I  asked  if  they  could  show  me  her  tomb. 
One  of  the  three  monks  pointed  out  an  ancient-looking 
sarcophagus  of  white  stone,  evidently  of  considerable 
antiquity,  above  which  a  silvered  picture  of  St.  George 
had  been  placed.  One  half  of  this  massive  tomb  was 
outside  the  wall  of  the  church,  so  that  it  was  evidently 
of  older  date  than  the  church  itself;  and  why  the  wall 
was  built  so,  one  cannot  conceive.  There  is  a  muti 
lated  inscription  running  round  the  base  of  the  tomb, 
which  unfortunately  I  could  make  nothing  of,  and  had 
no  means  of  copying.  Eugenio  emphatically  declared 
the  characters  to  be  old  Turkish!  Since  my  better 
acquaintance  with  the  Superior,  or  Papa,  he  assures 
me  that  the  present  church  does  not  stand  on  the  site 
of  the  original  one ;  and  one  day,  conducting  me  about 
two  minutes'  walk  over  the  rocks  looking  toward  the 
Olympian  range,  discovered  among  the  huge  masses, 
what  now  seemed  a  small  cavern,  almost  entirely  filled 
up  with  ponderous  fragments.  It  was  difficult  to  judge 
40 


470  IN    AND   AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

whether  these  had  been  hewn  by  the  hand  of  man  or 
not.  On  a  smoother  slab  of  granite  lay  a  ragged 
quilt,  and  this  he  told  me  belonged  to  a  poor  pilgrim 
just  arrived,  who  was  sleeping  there,  and  who  be 
lieved,  with  many  others,  in  the  legend,  that  this  was 
the  true  altar  of  St.  George  of  Irene.  So  I  am  afraid 
it  is  very  doubtful  whether  the  tomb  which  they  show 
in  the  church  is  that  of  the  Empress,  which  is  said  to 
have  been  within  the  walls  of  her  church.  The  inscrip 
tion  may  clear  up  the  mystery,  and  the  monk  has 
promised  to  copy  it  for  me.  He  gave  me  the  other 
day  an  exact  copy  in  outline  of  the  ancient  picture  of 
St.  George  and  the  Dragon,  which  is  preserved  in  a 
case  over  the  gateway.  It  is  a  very  curious  produc 
tion  :  St.  Peter  stands  by,  in  a  kind  of  tower  in  the  sky, 
watching  the  contest  between  the  knight  and  the 
dragon.  He  lolls  his  head  on  one  side  in  a  most 
comical  manner,  and  holds  his  keys  in  his  hand,  which 
hangs  over  the  side  of  the  tower;  he  is  evidently 
anxious  to  let  the  conqueror  in,  as  soon  as  the  fight  is 
ended.  I  will  send  you  the  drawing ;  pray  take  care 
of  it. 

Miss  Barker  and  I  spent  yesterday  at  the  Monas 
tery,  riding  up  the  mountain  on  donkeys.  "We  walked 
through  the  pretty  French  camp,  and  admired  the 
neat  wooden  houses  which  the  soldiers  have  built  for 
their  sick  officers  in  the  most  lovely  situations  among 
fir-trees  overhanging  the  sea.  At  a  little  distance  in 
the  valley  below  is  their  cemetery,  which  is  carefully 
walled  round,  and  planted  with  rows  of  simple  wooden 
crosses,  like  those  in  the  Crimea.  The  East  has  gath 
ered  many  dead  from  distant  places  since  the  war 
began.  The  few  French  troops  remaining  here  are 


DONKEY  PKOCESSIONS.  471 

soon  to  embark  on  their  return  home ;  so  they  have 
been  busy  planting  and  adorning  the  graves  of  those 
they  leave  behind  forever.  The  view  of  the  sea  and 
distant  mountains  and  islands  is  most  beautiful  here. 

Miss  Barker  and  I  sat  down  on  a  bench  under  some 
old  fir-trees,  near  the  convent  of  San  Nicoa;  and, 
while  we  rested  our  dapples,  listened  to  a  gay  French 
air,  whistled  from  a  tent  close  by,  where  two  wounded 
or  rather  convalescent  soldiers  were  amusing  them 
selves  by  persuading  a  starling  to  imitate  them.  It 
is  quite  curious  to  see  the  pains  which  soldiers  take 
with  their  pets.  We  sat  a  long  time  here ;  for  several 
donkey  processions  appeared,  winding  down  the  ra 
vine  before  us,  and  we  did  not  wish  our  little  beasts 
to  carry  us  amongst  them,  as  they  infallibly  would 
have  done  if  they  could,  being  accustomed  to  scamper 
along,  helter-skelter,  in  large  bodies.  These  donkeys 
processions  are  really  most  amusing  to  watch,  as  they 
wind  about  all  parts  of  the  island,  some  rapidly,  some 
slowly,  according  as  the  expedition  may  be  one  of 
pleasure  or  sanctity.  Here  comes  a  pretty  little  girl, 
in  a  Greek  jacket  and  straw  hat,  foremost  of  a  party. 
She  is  mounted  astride  of  a  large  black  donkey,  which 
is  adorned  with  scarlet  trappings,  and  a  gay  charm  of 
blue  beads  against  the  Evil  Eye,  for  he  is  sleek  and 
comely :  two  little  brothers  in  fezzes  scamper  after, 
trying  to  pass  her  at  a  narrow  turn  of  the  rock. 
Jolting  along,  also  astride,  and  calling  to  them  to 
stop,  comes  the  mamma,  her  gay  and  wide-flounced 
dress  so  completely  covering  the  animal  on  which  she 
is  seated,  that  only  its  tiny  hoofs  are  visible,  ambling 
along. 

Next  comes  a  fat,  joyous-looking  Greek  girl,  who 


472  IN   AND   AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

is  evidently  the  nurse.  Her  donkey  is  rushing  down 
the  steepest  part  of  the  ravine,  and  her  saddle  has 
slipped  all  on  one  side ;  but  she  tucks  a  mild,  passive- 
looking  baby  fearlessly  under  one  arm,  while  she 
grasps  the  reins,  a  formidable  stick,  and  a  colored 
handkerchief  full  of  pomegranates,  with  the  other. 
This  young  lady  shows  more  of  her  legs  than  I  well 
could  describe,  and  rides  after  the  same  safe  and  in 
dependent  fashion  as  the  rest. 

Far  behind,  comes  the  Paterfamilias,  pale  and  grave, 
and  looking  steadily  on  the  ground,  which  his  long 
legs  nearly  touch.  A  wild-looking  Greek  servant- 
boy  brings  up  the  rear,  evidently  carrying  the  pro 
visions.  I  daresay  they  are  going  to  spend  the  day 
at  San  Giorgio,  and  we  shall  meet  them  jogging  back 
to  the  village  by  sunset. 

But  presently  came  by  a  most  devout-looking  old 
lady,  of  large  dimensions,  with  a  very  rich  handker 
chief  and  heavy  plaits  of  hair  bound  round  her  head. 
She  rode  astride  with  a  dignified  air ;  but  her  stirrups 
were  so  short,  that  her  knees  were  rather  too  high  for 
perfect  ease  and  grace;  and  I  thought  she  looked 
rather  disconcerted,  when  her  beast  willfully  chose 
the  steepest  places.  She  was  evidently  making  a 
pilgrimage  to  the  picture  of  a  favorite  saint ;  for  the 
bare-legged  youth  in  a  scarlet  jacket,  running  by  her 
side,  carried  in  his  hand  a  huge  waxen  taper. 

One  thing  that  puzzles  me  in  these  donkey  pro 
cessions  is,  that  the  riders  never  seem  to  look  either 
right  or  left,  but  press  on,  down  ravines,  and  up 
mountains  by  the  seashore,  and  over  the  heath  hills, 
looking  straight  between  the  ears  of  their  wretched 
animals. 


DONKEY    PEOCESSIONS.  473 

Sometimes  you  hear  the  clink  of  hoofs  behind  a 
rock,  and  round  come  perhaps  half-a-dozen  hand 
somely-dressed  Greek  ladies,  riding  astride  as  solemnly 
as  mutes,  attended  by  as  solemn-looking  a  gentleman 
or  two  ;  all  perfectly  silent,  and  utterly  regardless  of 
the  glorious  sunset  spreading  over  the  sea  and  moun 
tains  around  them.  The  only  variety  in  the  pursuit 
of  island  donkey-riding  is,  when  two  parties  of  the 
animals  meet,  and  take  it  into  their  heads  to  rush 
together  pele-mele  and  fight,  which  they  do  des 
perately,  making  the  most  unearthly  noises  all  the 
time.  Some  of  the  ladies  scream — some  of  the  men 
dismount ;  the  owners  of  the  donkeys  belabor  them 
violently  with  abundance  of  invectives ;  a  terrible 
cloud  of  dust  is  raised ;  when  at  least  one  family- 
cavalcade  being  collected  winds  one  way,  and  the 
other  another.  I  met  a  large  party  the  other  day, 
who  had  experienced  a  contretemps  of  this  kind,  and 
were  just  gravely  riding  out  of  it ;  but  they  were  some 
time  before  they  got  quite  arranged  again,  for  it  was  a 
party  of  pleasure,  and  they  had  mounted  a  band  to 
play  before  them,  which  had  got  scattered  in  the  me  lee  • 
the  different  instruments,  perhaps  excited  by  moun 
tain  air  or  raki,  perseveringly  continuing  to  play 
among  the  braying  of  the  delinquent  asses,  and  at  the 
most  irregular  distances  from  one  another.  I  was 
particularly  struck  with  the  disgusted  expression  of 
the  largest  donkey  of  the  musical  party,  who  seemed 
to  have  headed  the  rebellion.  His  rider  was  playing 
the  trombone,  frightfully  out  of  tune,  close  against 
the  ears  of  the  unfortunate  animal,  who  showed  what 
he  thought  of  the  infliction  by  laying  them  down  flat 
on  his  neck  and  by  making  hideous  grimaces. 
40* 


474  IN   AND   AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

There  is  now  a  Greek  beauty  in  the  island,  who 
has  dozens  of  madahs  burnt  for  her  every  night  at  the 
Magyar.  I  often  meet  her  donkey  party.  She  gene 
rally  leads  the  way,  being  a  dashing  beauty ;  and  as 
she  is  mounted  on  the  largest  and  most  adventurous 
donkey  in  Prinkipo,  she  is  often  far  in  advance  of  her 
mother,  a  ponderous  old  lady  in  green,  with  a  yellow 
handkerchief  on  her  head,  who  covers  all  but  the 
ears  and  tail  of  the  animal  she  bestrides.  Several  of 
the  Beauty's  retinue  of  admirers  follow  as  best  they 
may.  Some  of  them  manage  to  keep  pretty  close  to 
her ;  but,  curiously  enough,  we  always  afterward  pass 
her  intended,  a  pale,  desponding-looking  man,  mounted 
on  the  most  wretched  donkey  in  the  island,  and  so  far 
behind  as  to  be  quite  out  of  sight  both  of  his  bride 
and  of  his  rivals. 

But  to  return  to  our  morning  at  St.  George's  mon 
astery.  Having  kind  Miss  Barker  to  interpret,  made 
the  visit  so  much  pleasanter.  We  found  the  Supe 
rior  standing  before  the  old  gateway  of  the  court-yard 
of  the  monastery,  throwing  a  few  dried  leaves  to  the 
flock  of  goats  which  came  bounding  over  the  vast 
piles  of  rock  which  lie  heaped  around.  He  is  a  fine, 
stern-looking  man,  his  active  energetic  movements 
and  long  beard  contrasting  strangely  with  the  old 
dark-blue  satin  petticoat  peeping  out  from  beneath 
his  black  outer  robe.  A  few  rough  tools  were  lying 
on  a  bench  beside  him ;  he  had  been  patching  up  a 
little,  he  said  apologetically,  against  the  winter-storms, 
for  the  place  had  not  been  repaired  for  years,  and  the 
brotherhood  here  was  too  poor  to  spend  any  money 
on  workmen.  Their  goats,  he  said,  were  almost  all 
they  had  *o  depend  upon  in  winter,  besides  the 


TRIP  TO   THE   SWEET  WATERS.  475 

produce  of  the  garden  at  the  foot  of  the  mountain,  of 
which  an  immense  heap  of  tomatoes  were  drying  in 
the  sun  :  it  must  be  a  hard  and  lonely  life.  I  asked 
if  he  had  copied  me  the  inscription  on  the  old  tomb. 
He  has  not  yet  found  time,  but  promises  to  do  so. 
We  went  into  the  church,  and  he  showed  us  a  very 
curious  cross,  of  great  antiquity.  It  is  about  seven 
inches  in  length,  and  the  frame  is  of  light  and  delicate 
filagree- work,  exquisitely  wrought  and  designed.  The 
hollow  centre  is  composed  of  minute  figures  in  carved 
cedar,  of  our  Saviour,  the  Virgin  Mary,  and  the  Apos 
tles  on  one  side,  and  of  several  saints  and  martyrs  on 
the  other.  There  are  holes  for  jewels  all  round,  and 
a  few  small  ones  still  remain.  On  particular  days  this 
cross  is  placed  on  the  altar  of  St.  George,  above  the  old 
tomb,  where  a  lamp  is  always  burning.  We  were 
particularly  amused  with  an  old  picture  in  honor  of 
St.  George,  w hi ch  hangs  in  a  remote  part  of  the  church. 
Crowned  kings,  pilgrims,  queens  in  gorgeous  array, 
children  and  beggars,  are  seated  stiffly  round  a  tank 
of  water,  supposed  to  have  sprung  from  the  favorite 
well  of  the  saint.  Some  of  the  ladies  certainly  look 
rather  tipsy,  especially  one  seated  near  a  very  jolly- 
looking  and  roysterous  king,  whose  crown  is  too  big 
for  him.  All  are  lifting  up  their  heads  and  eyes,  as 
in  some  way  or  other  expressing  a  comical  kind  of  sur 
prise  in  the  miraculously  healing  effect  of  the  draughts 
they  are  quaffing. 

This  picture,  offered  to  St.  George  after  a  cure 
performed  at  his  shrine  here,  cost  a  great  deal  of 
money,  and  was  considered  a  very  fine  one,  the  monk 
said.  There  is  one  at  Halki,  by-the-by,  still  more 
famed,  which  I  saw  the  other  day ;  it  represents  the 


476  IN   AND   ABOUND   STAMBOUL. 

temptations  of  this  life,  heaven  and  purgatory,  and  is 
hung  up  in  a  covered  court  in  front  of  the  church, 
before  the  benches  on  which  the  brothers  sit  to  medi 
tate — or  smoke.  The  immense  number  of  figures  on 
the  canvas,  and  the  glaring  colors,  make  the  homily 
difficult  to  read  by  unpracticed  eyes ;  but  I  know 
that  there  is  a  bright  blue  river  of  life,  winding  like  a 
snake  between  a  land  of  imps  and  demons  on  one 
side,  and  a  company  of  saints  and  angels  on  the  other. 
The  devils  are  urging  the  travelers  to  step  their 
way  ;  the  saints  do  not  interfere  much,  but  sit  in  stiff 
rows  in  a  garden  of  orange  and  myrtle  trees,  not 
nearly  so  tall  as  themselves.  Their  paradise  looks 
very  formal,  and  extremely  uninviting.  Down  below, 
is  a  kind  of  cave,  and  a  select  party  of  demons  of  all 
colors  are  busily  employed  in  tormenting  their  un 
happy  captives  in  the  most  jocular  manner  possible. 
One  of  them,  in  a  burst  of  merriment,  is  grilling  half- 
a-dozen  over  the  bars  of  a  huge  gridiron ;  another, 
stirring  up  a  seething  cauldron.  A  small  party  of 
brilliant  wits  are  pouring  melted  brimstone  and 
streams  of  flame  down  the  throats  of  their  agonized 
victims  ;  while  others,  looking  on,  rest  on  their  forks 
in  ecstacies  of  delight,  or  cut  the  most  ridiculous 


o 


capers. 

Though  you  will  have  had  enough  by  this  time  of 
Greek  pictures,  I  must  tell  you  about  the  St.  George 
in  this  place.  The  whole  of  the  picture,  except  the 
swarthy  face  of  the  saint,  is  covered  with  silver,  bar 
barously  enough  laid  on.  It  is  said  to  be  the  original 
picture  belonging  to  Irene's  church :  and  the  legend 
adds,  said  one  monk,  that  it  was  buried  by  one  of  the 
ancient  brotherhood,  when  Constantinople  was  taken 


LUNATICS.  477 

and  its  Christian  churches  razed.  Many  sacred  treas 
ures  were  so  preserved  in  those  days.  A  young  shep 
herd  of  Prinkipo,  two  or  three  centuries  later,  sleeping 
on  the  mountain,  dreamed  that  St.  George  appeared 
to  him,  and,  directing  him  to  dig  on  the  exact  spot 
where  he  lay,  assured  him  that  he  would  there  find 
the  long-lost  picture  of  his  shrine.  Of  course  the 
shepherd  dug,  and  of  course  he  discovered  the  picture, 
which  he  restored  to  the  present  church,  since  which 
time  it  has  been  famous  for  miraculous  cures,  espe 
cially  in  all  kinds  of  madness.  The  shepherd  left  his 
flock,  turned  monk,  and  ultimately  died  Superior  of 
this  monastery,  and  in  great  odor  of  sanctity.  The 
well  of  St.  George  is  close  by  the  church.  A  small 
stone  cell  has  been  built  over  it,  with  seats  hewn  in 
the  rock  for  the  use  of  pilgrims.  We  drank  some  of 
the  water  which  the  monk  drew  up  for  us,  and  pre 
sented  in  the  iron  cups.  It  was  very  cold,  but  our  friend 
assured  us  gravely  that  it  would  do  us  good. 

Tied  to  a  nail  in  the  wall  of  the  cell,  was  a  large 
bunch  of  hair  of  all  colors,  from  roughest  black  to 
the  lightest  gold.  These  are  offerings  shown  from 
the  heads  of  pilgrims,  who  have  been  cured  by  the 
healing  waters  of  the  saint.  They  look  so  dreary, 
waving  to  and  fro  in  the  wind,  so  unlikely  to  please 
the  spirit  of  our  cheerful  Knight,  St.  George  !  After 
ward,  when  I  went  to  the  church  again,  to  look  at  a 
stone  belonging,  they  said,  to  the  old  convent,  I  asked 
the  monk  what  the  large  iron  rings  were  for  in  the 
pavement  before  the  shrine.  At  first  he  did  not  seem 
to  like  to  answer,  but  at  length  said  that  they  were 
used  to  chain  the  lunatics  to,  who  were  sent  up  the 
mountain  to  be  cured !  Can  you  imagine  any  thing 


478  IN   AND   AROUND  STAMBOUL. 

more  horrible  ?  By  an  iron  collar  fixed  round  the 
neck,  they  are  sometimes  chained  to  these  rings  for 
three  days  and  three  nights,  until,  from  struggling 
and  exhaustion,  or  cold,  perhaps  all  these  together, 
they  sink  down  on  the  stooes  before  the  picture  of 
the  saint,  who  is  then  supposed  to  have  cured  the 
paroxysm.  Can  you  conceive  any  thing  more  barbar 
ous  ? 

"We  sat  down  to  have  our  luncheon  under  the  old 
walnut-tree  in  the  court-yard.  The  poor  starved  cats 
and  dogs  about  the  place  looked  wistfully  at  us,  and 
we  gave  them  a  right  good  meal.  The  Papa  would  not 
sit  down  with  us ;  he  said  he  was  fasting,  though  he 
did  not  certainly  look  so ;  but  an  old  woman  belong 
ing  to  the  monastery,  who  milked  the  goats  and  made 
the  cheese,  and  who  looked  as  black  and  dried-up  as 
the  picture  of  any  Greek  saint  of  old,  waited  upon  us, 
croaking  out  all  sorts  of  questions  about  England  and 
the  war,  and  ending  by  being  quite  friendly ;  direct 
ing  Eugenio  where  he  could  find  some  fine  figs  to 
add  to  our  repast.  He  brought  back  with  him  a  small 
tortoise,  which  he  had  caught  under  the  tree.  It  has 
a  beautifully  marked  shell,  and  is  evidently  very  old ; 
it  may  even  have  raised  its  tiny  eyes  to  the  great 
banished  Queen,  standing  on  these  lonely  rocks  be 
fore  the  glorious  view  of  sea  and  mountain,  and  think 
ing  on  "  the  various  turns  of  fate  below."  I  shall  call 
it  "  Irene." 

While  we  were  looking  at  the  tortoise,  a  young 
Greek,  who  had  been  wandering  listlessly  about  the 
gallery,  came  up  to  us.  He  looked  ill  and  wan,  and 
we  offered  him  a  pear.  I  thought  he  snatched  it 
in  rather  an  odd  way,  and  on  looking  at  him  more 


LUNATICS.  479 

attentively,  saw  that  he  had  an  iron  collar  round  his 
neck,  and  a  gash  on  one  of  his  cheeks,  which  it  sick 
ened  one  to  think  of.  He  seemed  perfectly  quiet  and 
harmless  then,  but  the  priest  came  angrily  up,  and 
speaking  roughly  to  him  in  Greek,  drove  him  away 
across  the  court,  opened  the  door  of  a  shed,  and  shut 
him  in.  I  noticed  that  he  did  not  turn  the  key,  and, 
watching  an  opportunity,  I  ran  across  the  court, 
opened  the  door,  and  went  in.  There  the  poor  crea 
ture  lay  on  a  heap  of  rubbish,  with  a  ragged  coverlid 
beside  him.  When  the  door  was  shut,  the  place 
must  have  been  perfectly  dark,  for  there  was  neither 
window  nor  opening  of  any  kind,  and  it  seemed  to 
have  been  formed  out  of  some  ruined  stone  building 
or  cell.  Fancy  his  solitary,  hopeless  days  there,  when 
quite  sane,  as  they  say  he  often  is !  He  looked  up 
surprised  when  I  spoke,  but  did  not  stir.  I  think  he 
understood  Italian.  I  offered  him  a  pear,  which  he 
did  not  take  until  I  said :  "  Do  eat  another,"  and  then 
he  stretched  out  his  thin  hand  and  smiled.  He  seemed 
to  watch  the  sunlight  very  wistfully,  which  streamed 
in  at  the  open  door  as  I  stood  there ;  and  I  shall  never 
forget  the  pain  it  cost  me  to  shut  it  out  from  him.  I 
have  since  made  many  inquiries  about  these  poor 
unfortunates,  and  find  that  their  treatment  is  the  fault 
of  their  superstition,  and  not  that  of  any  particular 
priest.  Mothers,  fully  believing  in  miraculous  cures 
before  the  shrine,  send  up  their  sons  to  receive  this 
treatment,  paying  a  trifling  sum  for  board;  and  the 
patients  themselves,  when  they  feel  an  attack  of  their 
malady  coming  on,  will  endeavor  to  return  of  their 
own  accord.  However,  I  am  happy  to  say  that  St. 
George  has  now  but  two  patients ;  and  we  saw  several 


480  IN   AND   AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

empty  rooms  within  the  gallery,  which  the  old  woman 
told  us  were  once  full  of  the  richer  class  of  patients 
and  pilgrims  too,  but  which  were  now  seldom  used. 
This  last  summer  some  grand  English  officers  were 
lodging  there,  who  had  evidently  quite  won  her  an 
cient  heart.  We  finished  our  day  by  quietly  drink 
ing  coffee,  seated  on  the  moldy  divan  of  one  of  these 
apartments.  I  should  have  gone  to  sleep,  as  indeed 
we  both  tried  to  do ;  but  my  tortoise,  which  I  had 
tied  to  my  wrist  in  a  handkerchief,  kept  trying  to 
escape,  and  Miss  Barker  was  too  much  afraid  of  the 
countless  pilgrim  fleas  to  close  her  eyes.  So  we 
looked  again  at  the  glorious  view  of  the  Sea  of  Mar 
mora  far  below,  and  at  the  old  walls  and  distant  mina 
rets  of  Constantinople  glittering  in  the  evening  sun, 
and  then  prepared  to  depart. 

It  was  a  perfect  calm,  the  sea  like  glass,  and  caiques 
threading  their  way  about,  looking  no  bigger  than 
mosquitos,  from  the  great  height  at  which  we  were. 
The  mountains,  and  hills,  and  vineyards  looked  so 
beautiful,  that  it  made  us  grieve  to  think  of  the  miser 
able  degradation  of  every  thing  else  here.  I  brought 
my  tortoise  home  in  safety,  and  Johannachi  has  under 
taken  the  charge  of  it — an  occupation  just  about  suited 
to  his  intellect,  poor  little  fellow !  He  also  helps  me 
to  catch  flies,  for  the  beautiful  little  tree-frogs  which  I 
brought  from  a  piece  of  marshy  ground  on  the  coast 
near  Maltape,  and  which  have  become  tame  enough  to 
spring  off  the  branch  we  have  fixed  in  a  box  for  them, 
and  snatch  their  prey  out  of  our  fingers.  Edmund 
takes  great  interest  in  these  pretty  little  green  fellows, 
and  has  stolen  my  best  lace  vail  to  hang  before  their 
door.  But  I  am  afraid  we  shall  never  be  able  to  bring 


CURIOSITIES.  481 

them  home ;  so  we  intend  to  let  them  out  before  we 
leave,  which  I  suppose  will  be  soon  now.  I  told  you 
that  my  dear  little  dog  Fuad  was  lost.  We  have  heard 
no  tidings  of  him.  Herbert  Siborne  has  taken  Arslan 
to  England,  and  we  have  no  pets  now  except  a  tame 
fly-catcher,  which  follows  me  everywhere,  even  into 
the  vineyard,  without  wishing  to  stray.  It  had  hurt 
one  of  its  wings  when  I  found  it  some  weeks  ago. 
Adieu !  I  have  sent  home  by  Herbert,  who  has  kindly 
taken  charge  of  a  box  for  me,  a  motley  little  collection 
of  curiosities.  You  will  find  three  small  antique  vases 
from  Tarsus,  most  kindly  given  to  me  by  Mr.  Hughes, 
who  has  just  returned  from  thence — a  piece  of  fine 
carving,  given  me  by  a  monk  here,  representing  the 
Empress  Irene  and  a  robed  priest  holding  a  book — a 
rosary  of  black  beads  from  Jerusalem — otto  of  roses 
fresh  from  Persia — some  Russian  medals  and  crosses 
taken  after  the  battles  in  the  Crimea — a  piece  of  pink 
granite,  and  a  piece  of  oak  from  the  dockyard  at  Se- 
bastopol — a  Russian  gunner's  shoe,  and  several  other 
things  picked  up  in  the  Malakoff  and  Redan — a  pipe, 
made  of  the  stone  of  Sebastopol  by  an  English  soldier 
— a  collection  of  dried  plants —  an  Arab  bride's  ring 
— three  or  four  ancient  silver  coins — some  wood  of 
aloes,  the  famous  incense — a  little  Damascus  dagger — 
a  tin  bottle  of  water  from  the  Jordan — a  rose  of  Jeri 
cho — and,  above  all,  a  cross  made  of  olive-wood,  cut 
from  an  old  tree  in  the  Garden  of  Gethsemane.  The 
acorns  are  to  be  carefully  raised  in  a  pit :  they  are 
from  the  Forest  of  Belgrade,  close  to  Lady  Mary's 
house.  I  am  very  anxious  about  the  safe  arrival  of 
my  box. 
41 


LETTER    LVIII. 

THE   LUNATIC  AND    THE   PRIEST'S   DONKEY — APPEAL  TO  ST.  DEMETRIUS 

THE  LUNATIC    SENT   HOME. 

Prinkipo,  September  8th,  1856. 

My  dear  Julia : 

As  I  was  sitting  alone  about  mid-day  yester 
day,  busily  writing,  I  heard  a  knocking  at  the  door 
of  the  Salaamlik,  which  opens  on  to  a  rough  path 
just  cut  on  the  mountain.  A  young  Greek  about 
seventeen  was  standing  there,  holding  a  donkey  by 
the  bridle.  Both  looked  tired,  and  I  understood  that 
the  boy  asked  for  water;  so  I  called  Eugenio,  and 
told  him  to  let  them  rest,  and  see  what  they  wanted. 
The  donkey  was  laden  with  large  branches  of 
pomegranates  and  quinces,  and  had  a  colored  hand- 
kerchief-ful  of  them  tied  round  his  neck.  His  master 
gave  me  the  finest  of  the  branches,  and  then  sat  down 
on  the  bench  in  the  shade.  Presently  I  heard  an 
exclamation  of  surprise  from  the  Apple-blossom. 
"  What  is  the  matter  ?" — "  Oh,  Signora !  he  is  a  mad 
man,  and  is  asking  for  St.  George."  Poor  fellow,  we 
then  saw  the  iron  collar  beneath  his  vest,  and 
noticed  his  cut  and  bleeding  feet  and  haggard 
looks.  On  a  close  inspection,  too,  it  turned  out  to 
be  the  priest's  sleek  donkey,  which  looked  so  un 
usually  hot  and  tired,  from  being  dragged  about 
in  the  burning  sun.  The  poor  boy  kept  asking 
for  St.  George,  and  seemed  to  have  some  indistinct 

(482) 


A  LUNATIC.  483 

idea  of  having  lost  his  way.  Kind-hearted  Melia 
was  deeply  moved  at  his  calling  so  imploringly 
on  the  Saint,  and  rushing  to  her  room  for  her 
much-prized,  dirty  little  picture  of  St.  Demetrius, 
brought  it  to  him,  fully  believing  that  the  sight  of 
it  would  comfort  or  restore  his  wandering  mind. 
But  she  pronounced  him  very  bad  indeed  when  he 
turned  away,  and  asked  me  again  for  St.  George. 
At  last  he  suddenly  seized  the  donkey's  bridle,  and 
starting  off,  tried  to  climb  the  steepest  part  of  the 
mountain,  dragging  the  poor  little  beast  through 
bushes  and  rocks  after  him.  The  donkey  seemed 
dreadfully  distressed,  and  at  last  positively  refused 
to  go  any  further.  I  got  Eugenio,  and  Signor  Gia- 
como's  strong  Croat  gardener,  to  get  them  both 
down,  and  then  directed  Eugenio  to  see  them 
safely  back  to  the  Monastery  by  the  right  path. 
They  started  quietly  enough,  and  Eugenio  returned 
some  time  after,  saying  that  he  had  guided  them 
as  far  as  the  foot  of  the  mountain,  and  that  the 
poor  young  man  was  riding  quietly  on.  I  was 
vexed  that  he  had  not  gone  the  whole  way,  and  lo ! 
presently  back  came  the  unfortunate  creature,  still 
asking  for  St.  George,  and  almost  fainting  from 
fatigue  and  exhausation.  Melia  and  myself  now 
kept  him  quietly  on  the  bench,  while  Eugenio  went 
for  the  Priest,  who  we  heard  was  in  the  village, 
searching  for  his  patient.  The  poor  boy  had  escaped 
with  the  donkey  since  the  morning  before,  had 
passed  one  night  on  the  mountain,  and  all  this 
time  had  been  without  food,  unless  he  had  eaten 
the  unripe  pomegranates  and  quinces  with  which 
he  had  laden  his  companion.  He  went  back  quietly 


48-i  IN    AND    AROUND   STAM13OUL. 

enough  with  the  Superior,  who  promised  me  that  he 
should  not  be  punished,  which  promise  I  sincerely 
trust  he  has  kept.  I  shall  go  up  to  St.  Giorgio  in  a 
day  or  two  and  ask  after  him.  The  bunch  of  pome 
granates  hanging  up  in  my  room  makes  my  heart 
ache. 


LETTEK     LIX. 

VISIT  FROM  A  TURKISH  LADY — HER  TASTE  FOR  MUSIC — HER  NUBIAN  SLAVE 

EXHIBITION  OF  AN  ENGLISH  GENTLEMAN GRATIFICATION  AFFORDED 

BY  THE  SPECTACLE. 

Constantinople,  September  20th,  1856. 
My  dear  Mother : 

I  "had  a  visit  yesterday  from  the  Turkish  lady 
whom  I  went  to  see  some  time  ago  with  our  Arme 
nian  neighbors.  About  ten  in  the  morning  Melia 
came  running  to  say  that  a  Harem  was  coming,  and 
I  quickly  recognized  my  merry  acquaintance  through 
her  thin  yashmak,  as  she  came  up  the  garden-steps. 
She  was  attended  by  two  pretty  slaves,  and  by  a 
hideous  black  woman,  who  led  by  the  hand  the  lovely 
little  girl  whom  I  mentioned  to  you  as  crying  after 
the  jewels,  the  day  of  my  visit  to  the  Harem.  They 
all  put  off  their  shoes  at  the  foot  of  the  stairs,  and 
came  up  in  the  pointed-toed  embroidered  slippers 
beneath.  As  I  knew  the  lady  spoke  Greek,  Johan- 
nachi  was  instantly  dispatched  with  a  note  to  my 
constant  friend  Miss  Barker,  who  came  down  im 
mediately.  Melia  hastened  to  serve  coffee  and  sweet 
meats. 

I  led  the  Cocona  into  my  room  to  take  off  her  yash 
mak  and  apple-green  feridjee ;  she  ran  about  like  a 
pleased  child  come  to  have  a  holiday,  looking  at  every 
thing  there ;  and  the  slaves  followed  her  example. 
When  we  returned  to  the  drawing-room,  she  sat  down 
to  the  piano,  as  if  to  surprise  me,  and  strummed  in  the 

(485) 


486  IX    AND   AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

most  ludicrous  manner  for  about  half  an  hour,  the 
slaves  standing  by  with  evident  pride  and  satisfaction. 
She  then  rose,  and  begged  to  hear  me  play  or  sing.  I 
never  felt  more  puzzled  in  my  life  what  to  choose,  but 
at  last  fixed  on  Blangini's  "  Cara  Elisa,"  as  simple  and 
pretty,  and  began  to  sing.  My  guest  was  seated  cross- 
legged  on  the  divan  behind  me,  so  I  could  not  see  the 
effect  of  my  favorite  canzonetta  upon  her ;  but  at  the 
end  of  the  first  verse,  the  Nubian  crossed  the  room, 
placed  her  black  elbows  on  the  piano,  leaned  her  hide 
ous  face  on  them,  and  stared  at  me  with  such  an 
intense  expression  of  astonishment  and  disgust,  that  it 
was  with  the  greatest  difficulty  I  could  keep  my  coun 
tenance.  At  last  she  uttered  a  dismal  groan,  and  made 
such  a  frightful  grimace,  that  I  could  resist  no  longer, 
and  fairly  burst  out  laughing.  The  Turkish  lady 
seemed  greatly  relieved  to  be  able  to  laugh  too,  and 
asked  her  favorite  if  she  did  not  like  English  singing. 
"  Horrible !"  said  the  Black,  showing  her  white  jackal- 
like  teeth  from  ear  to  ear.  "  That  is  the  way  they  sing 
at  the  Opera  at  Pera,"  said  the  lady.  We  asked  how 
she  knew.  She  said  that  her  husband  had  been  there 
one  evening,  and  had  described  the  singing  to  her. 
Pity  my  vanity,  wounded  in  its  tenderest  point ! 

She  then  turned  round  quickly  and  asked  where  the 
gentlemen  were.  I  replied  that  Mr.  Hornby  was  gone 
to  Stamboul,  and  Mr.  Mansfield  (who  she  knew  was 
staying  with  us),  to  visit  a  friend  at  Pera.  She  said 
she  was  very  sorry  to  hear  this,  as  she  had  set  her 
heart  on  seeing  an  English  gentleman  near,  as  she  had 
only  seen  them  passing  in  the  street.  Just  at  this  mo 
ment  she  looked  into  the  garden,  and  there,  in  an 
arbor,  sat  Mr.  Bumball  quietly  reading.  I  did  not 


487 

know  he  was  there.  "  There  is  an  English  gentleman/' 
cried  out  my  willful  guest;  " pray  ask  him  to  come 
up,  that  I  may  see  him."  I  replied  as  civilly  as  I 
could,  that  it  was  quite  out  of  the  question — that  the 
Eirendi  had  trusted  tacitly  to  my  honor  in  allowing 
her  to  visit  me,  and  that  I  could  do  nothing  of  which 
I  knew  he  would  disapprove  so  highly  as  the  admitting 
any  gentleman  into  the  room  while  she  was  there. 
When  Miss  Barker  translated  this,  she  was  as  angry 
as  any  spoiled  child,  turned  her  back  upon  me,  and 
kept  striking  notes  on  the  piano  with  one  ringer,  as 
she  sat  pouting  on  the  stool.  Presently  she  said  some 
thing  very  spitefully,  and  I  asked  what  it  was ;  "  Tell 
her  she  is  jealous — say  that  she  is  afraid  of  letting  me 
see  any  of  the  men."  I  verily  believe  that  she  thought 
I  had  locked  them  all  up.  I  tried  to  bring  her  to  rea 
son,  and  begged  Miss  Barker  to  call  her  attention 
quietly  to  the  black  slave,  who  was  looking  furiously 
angry  at  hearing  her  mistress's  request.  We  took 
her  into  the  next  room,  and  asked  her  how,  even  if  it 
were  right  to  deceive  her  husband,  she  could  trust  the 
discretion  or  the  fidelity  of  her  slaves ;  she  must  see 
how  the  black  one  was  glaring  at  her !  For  all  we 
could  say,  she  replied  that  she  did  not  care,  and 
that  it  was  very  spiteful  of  me  to  disappoint  her 
so.  At  last  a  compromise  was  agreed  on,  provided 
that  the  Nubian  gave  her  consent ;  and  a  little  coax 
ing,  and  no  doubt  a  promise  of  a  bakshish,  soon 
gained  that. 

It  was  agreed  that  the  lady  and  her  slaves  were  to 
put  on  their  yashmaks  and  feridjees,  to  sit  in  the  little 
room  with  the  door  ajar,  and  that  Mr.  Rumball  should 
be  brought  upstairs  and  placed  near  enough  to  them 


488  IN   AND   AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

to  be  distinctly  visible.  I  could  not  see  any  harm  in 
this,  and  therefore  gave  my  consent,  provided  they 
kept  their  promise  of  remaining  vailed.  I  then  went 
down  to  Mr.  Rumball,  and  solemnly  adjuring  him  to 
behave  with  the  utmost  discretion  and  gravity,  brought 
him  before  the  door  of  the  room,  where  the  lady  was 
seated  as  if  in  the  best  box  of  an  Opera,  with  her  at 
tendants  behind  her.  He  was  very  much  amused,  and 
made  them  all  giggle  vastly  by  throwing  a  handker 
chief  over  his  face,  and  pretending  to  be  shy.  How 
ever,  they  would  not  endure  this  long,  and  called  out 
to  me  to  pull  it  off,  which  I  did.  I  stood  by  his  side, 
like  a  showman  exhibiting  some  rare  beast ;  and  when 
I  would  have  led  him  away,  the  audience  within  mur 
mured  like  children  who  beg  to  have  another  look. 
But  at  last  I  was  suffered  to  let  him  say  adieu,  and  I 
drove  him  away  into  the  garden  again,  laughing  and 
kissing  his  hand. 

When  he  was  gone,  they  all  said,  throwing  off  their 
vails,  that  he  was  very  good-looking,  and  that  they 
had  been  very  much  pleased  with  the  sight  of  him ; 
they  thanked  me  very  much,  and  hoped  I  would  show 
them  Mr.  Mansfield  and  Mr.  Hornby  another  time — 
which  of  course  I  promised  to  do.  Then  the  Cocona 
sat  down  to  the  piano  again,  and  again  strummed  until 
my  head  fairly  ached.  You  may  fancy  how  tired  I 
was,  when  I  tell  you  that  they  stayed  from  ten  till  four. 
At  last,  to  my  great  relief,  they  put  on  their  vails  and 
feridjees  and  hurried  away,  seemingly  delighted  with 
their  visit,  and  promising  to  come  again  soon ! 


LETTBE    LX 

BOATMEN'S  SONGS — GREEK  SINGING — SPECIMENS. 

Constantinople,  September  12th,  1856. 
My  dear  Julia : 

Last  year  I  promised  to  send  you,  if  possible, 
some  of  the  boatmen's  songs  of  the  Bosphorus. 
Through  the  kindness  of  a  friend,  who  speaks  and 
understands  Greek  perfectly  well,  I  have  at  last  pro 
cured  a  few  of  the  most  popular, — such  as  are  con 
stantly  heard  in  the  villages,  and  before  the  trellised 
doors  of  the  cafanees  after  sunset.  In  Constantinople 
the  caiquejee  is  almost  invariably  mute  and  dignified, 
keeping  time  with  his  oars  with  splendid  strength  and 
regularity,  neither  looking  to  the  right  nor  the  left, 
except  casting  a  rapid  glance  now  and  then  to  see 
that  the  way  is  clear. 

A  grand  Turk  would  be  horrified  at  his  boatmen 
speaking  unless  spoken  to,  except  it  was  necessary  in 
the  navigation  of  the  boat.  I  do  not  know  what  he 
would  do  if  his  majestic  silence  were  disturbed  by  a 
song,  after  the  manner  of  Venetian  boatmen.  How 
ever,  the  silent  beauty  of  the  Bosphorus,  only  broken 
by  the  deep  and  measured  plunge  of  oars  in  the 
water,  is  something  peculiarly  delightful  and  dreamy, 
and  you  never  wish  the  charm  disturbed.  Besides 
which,  the  Greek  notion  of  singing  is  peculiarly 
harsh,  inharmonious,  and  monotonous  ;  it  only  sounds 
well,  mellowed  by  great  distance ;  when  one  becomes 
more  accustomed  to  it,  it  is  not  unpleasant  to  be 

'    (489) 


490        IN  AND  ABOUND  STAMBOUL. 

awakened  by  the  chant  of  the  fishermen  as  they  draw 
in  their  nets,  or  by  a  love-song  from  some  caique 
darting  rapidly  down  the  stream,  or  moored  idly  in 
the  shade  of  a  palace  wall.  But  it  is  in  the  evening 
that  you  hear  this  monotonous  sound  rising  from 
every  valley, — from  cafanees  overhanging  the  waters 
of  the  Bosphorus,  to  the  shady  fountain-trees  of  the 
villages,  under  which,  in  fine  weather,  the  poor  almost 
pass  their  lives.  Sometimes  it  is  accompanied  by  a 
little  liquid-sounding  drum  or  by  a  small  guitar,  and 
this  goes  on  all  the  night  long,  often  until  after  sun 
rise.  There  is  little  or  no  melody, — in  fact,  the  word 
so?!^  scarcely  applies  to  a  monotonous  and  somewhat 
melancholy  chant,  which  is  always  in  the  Minor  mode, 
and  frequently  approaches  recitative. 

Kemember  that  I  do  not  send  you  these  scraps  as 
curious  specimens;  they  are  merely  rough  transla 
tions  of  the  ordinary  every-day  songs  of  the  Greeks 
here ;  and  I  fear  that  "  the  heroic  lay  is  tuneless  now," 
for  they  are  but  trifles.  However,  in  the  original 
Greek  they  really  sound  very  sweet  and  melodious, 
and,  although  understanding  but  little,  their  smooth 
ness  particularly  charmed  my  ear.  Of  course  this  is 
completely  lost  in  the  literal  translation,  as  well  as 
their  great  tenderness. 

But  here  is  a  village  swain,  in  despair  at  the  de 
parture  of  his  love.  He  is  supposed  to  be  addressing 
a  sympathizing  friend,  or  fellow-sufferer.  She  is  evi 
dently  a  great  beauty  and  breaker  of  hearts. 

"Didst  thou  not  see  the  fair  one  ? 
Alas  !   I  too  beheld  her  yesterday, 
When  she  stepped  into  a  little  boat, 
And  departed  for  foreign  parts. 


SONGS.  491 

"The  wind  blew,  and  the  sea  was  rough ; 
The  sails  filled, 

Like  the  plumes  of  a  little  pigeon 
When  it  spreads  its  wings. 

"Her  friends  stood  on  the  shore, 
With  mingled  grief  and  joy  ; 
And  she  with  a  handkerchief 
Returned  their  adieux. 

"And  a  sad  adieu 
I  also  would  have  said ; 
But  the  cruel  one 
Denied  me  even  this. 

'I  weep  not  for  the  boat, 
I  weep  not  for  the  sails, 
Biit  I  weep  for  the  fair  one 
Who  is  gone  to  foreign  parts." 

Here  is  one  illustrative  of  Eastern  life : — 

"  'Good-evening  to  thee,  my  lady, 
On  this  high  terrace 
What  art  thou  planting  and  watering, 
That  thou  turnest  not  round  to  behold  me  ?' 

"  '  What  is  it  to  thee,  young  man, 
What  I  am  watering  and  planting  ? 
Sweet  flowers  I  plant 
For  the  youth  I  love.' 

"  '  Plant  not  these  flowers,  my  soul ; 
Lady,  plant  not  these  flowers  ; 
But  plant  basilica, 

That  their  seed  the  nightingales  may  see 
And  eat,  and  make  sweet  melody.'  "* 

ISTow  comes  a  lovers'  quarrel,  in  which  the  gentle 
man  shows  a  considerable  amount  of  Greek  ingenuity. 

*  I  cannot  find  out  what  is  meant  by  the  nightingales  eating 
the  seeds  of  basilica,  which  no  doubt  means  basil,  held  sacred 
by  the  Greeks,  the  true  Cross  having  been  found  shrouded  in 
its  leaves. 


492  IN   AND   AROUND   STAMJ3OUL. 

"If  any  wicked  person,  or  liar, 
Hath  spoken  ill  of  me, 
Yet  tliou  must  not  forget 
So  soon  our  tender  vows. 

"My  love  !  I  see  thou  art  grieved, 
Very  much  grieved  for  me  ; 
Yet  I  know  of  no  other  fault 
Than  of  too  much  love  for  thee. 

"My  fair  one  !  after  so  many  vows, 
And  cherishing  many  fond  hopes, 
How  canst  thou  grieve  me,  my  life  ? 
Ah  !  it  must  be  another  you  love  !" 

Is  not  this  little  scrap  of  pretended  jealousy  and 
"  turning  of  tables"  a  masterpiece  ?  This  song  amused 
me  excessively ;  it  is  so  smooth  and  plausible  and 
persuasive  in  the  original.  One  can  so  easily  imagine 
the  beauty  relenting,  and  raising  her  large  dark  eyes, 
to  say — 

"  And  was  it  really  true  ?"  etc. 

Songs  of  this  length  do  not  seem  to  be  so  popular 
as  those  of  two,  or  even  one  verse.  Over  and  over 
again,  to  the  same  monotonous  chant,  an  idle  boat 
man  or  a  gardener,  resting  in  the  sultry  heat  of  the 
day,  seems  to  take  a  quiet  sort  of  delight  in  repeating 
such  lines  as  these: — 

"  Three  months  elapsed  before  I  saw  thee, 

Ma-ri-a-me-ne  !  Ma-ri-a-me-ne  ! 
I  thought  they  were  three  years. 
Three  sharp  knives  into  my  heart  did  enter, 
Ma-ri-a-me-ne  !  Ma-ri-a-me-ne  ! 

I  can  just  fancy  the  splendid  young  caiquejee  in 
snowy  garments  and  crimson  sash  and  cap,  singing 
this  as  he  rows  gayly  along, — 


SONGS.  493 

"  As  many  stars  as  in  the  skies, 
As  many  windows  in  Stamboul,* 
As  many  damsels  I  have  kissed. 
On  the  eyebrows,  on  the  eyes." 

Or  this— 

"  I  send  thee  my  love, 
With  a  rosy  apple  ; 
And  in  the  rosy  part 
A  tender  kiss  is  hidden. 

"Let  us  make  our  vows 
Under  sixty-two  columns  ; 
And  if  I  do  not  love  thee, 
Let  them  all  fall  and  crush  me  !" 

This  is  to  a  shrinking,  sensitive  young  lady,  and  is 
very  musical  and  pretty  in  the  original  Greek : — 

"My  little  white  rose  ! 
My  queen  of  flowers  ! 
Hast  thou  discarded  love, 
That  I  may  despise  it  too  ? 

"An  old  man  may  discard  it 
A  hundred  summers  old, 
But  can  I  live  without  it, 
Who  but  eighteen  have  told  ? 

"Maiden  mine  !   fairest  girl  ! 
Thou  art  trying  to  cause  my  death. 
But  I  will  not  die,  I  will  not  die 
My  love  is  so  great 
That  thou  must  be"  mine, 
Thou  must  be  mine  ! ' ' 

This  is  a  curious  verse  : — 

"Pale  hands  which  the  sun  has  never  seen, 
Which  the  doctors  touch, 
And  say  to  one  another, 
'  There  is  no  hope  of  life.'  " 

*  Mr.  Smythe  speaks  of  the  many  windows  of  Stamboul  at 
sunset  charming  the  bewildered  fancy  of  a  provincial  on  his 
first  arrival. 

42 


494  IN   AND   AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

The  following  description  of  the  garden,  in  the 
evening,  set  in  order,  and  fair  at  the  same  time,  with 
both  fruit  and  flowers,  is  really  very  pretty  in  the 
original : — 

''One  Saturday  night 
I  went  out  to  walk 
In  a  beautiful  garden, 
Of  which  all  are  envious. 
It  was  in  blossom, 
And  decked  out  fair, 
And  bright  with  many  fruits." 

To  the  lady  walking  there  :— 

"Oh,  thou  bright  sun  !  thou  golden  light  I 
With  thy  brilliant  rays 
Thou  hast  taken  away  my  sight  ! 
Beside  thine  mine  eyes  have  grown  dim  ; 
So  then  let  my  lips  say 
That  I  love  you  ; 
That  the  leaves  of  my  heart* 
May  be  cured." 

But  I  think  you  will  have  had  enough  of  Greek 
love-songs,  and  must  conclude.  Edward  Barker  has 
promised  me  some  of  a  different  kind,  real  Eomaic 
war-songs,  about  liberty,  and  all  that  the  Greeks  talk 
of, — independence,  love  of  Greece,  etc.  Adieu ! 

*  The  Greeks  liken  the  heart  to  a  rose  with  five  leaves  or 
petals. 


[Two  or  three  of  the  Letters  belonging  to  the  fore 
going  series  not  having  come  to  hand,  the  following, 
which  has  been  received  since  Mrs.  Hornby's  second 
departure  to  Constantinople,  is  inserted.] 


LETTEE    LXI. 

SEVERITY  OF  WINTER— LIFE   m  A  KIOSK — THE  GOLDEN  HORN  FROZEN 

OVER WOLVES  AND  FOXES — THEIR  MURDEROUS  INCURSIONS SCARCITY 

OF  FOOD  AND  FUEL — HIGH   PRICES— ENGLISH  AND   GREEK   SERVANTS 

DEATH   OF   REDSHID    PASHA. 

Orta-kioy,  February  5th,  1858. 

My  dear  Mrs.  Austin : 

A  thousand  thanks  for  your  kind  letter,  and  for 
the  pretty  book.  Edith  was  very  much  pleased  with  it, 
and  I  often  read  to  her  with  great  pleasure  those  of 
the  poems  which  she  can  most  easily  understand,  about 
heath-flowers  and  all  that  reminds  us  of  dear  old 
Weybridge. 

I  hear  that  the  weather  is  mild  and  pleasant  in 
England.  Here  we  have  undergone  all  the  horrors 
of  a  most  severe  winter,  in  a  thin  wooden  house, 
perched  on  the  top  of  a  range  of  ills,  perfectly  exposed 
to  the  north.  For  the  last  six  weeks  the  storms  have 
been  almost  uninterrupted,  and  the  country  has  been 
covered  with  one  vast  sheet  of  snow,  driven  down  with 
great  violence  from  the  Black  Sea.  Night  after  night 
I  have  lain  awake,  expecting  every  moment  that  the 
whole  side  of  my  room,  consisting  of  nine  rattling  win 
dows,  must  inevitably  be  blown  in.  The  stove  I  had 
put  up  was  of  little  use  against  the  piercing  draughts 
of  air  which  poured  in  from  all  parts  of  the  room. 
A  candle  was  often  blown  out,  and  the  Persian  rug 
literally  danced  and  napped  about  on  the  floor.  Snow 
was  often  forced  into  a  little  drift  on  my  table,  in  the 

(495) 


496  IN   AND   AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

middle  of  the  room.  Now  we  have  nailed  up  skins 
and  pieces  of  carpet,  which  protect  us  from  the  blasts 
on  the  north  side. 

Water  stood  in  solid  masses  of  ice  in  all  our  rooms 
last  week.  This  will  not  surprise  you,  when  I  tell  you 
that  part  of  the  Golden  Horn  is  frozen  over,  and  that 
many  hundred  persons  crossed  over  on  foot.  Wolves 
and  foxes  have  come  down  from  the  mountains  in 
great  numbers,  and  several  persons,  including  a  poor 
charcoal  burner  belonging  to  a  village  near  us,  have 
been  killed  by  the  ferocious  attacks  of  the  former. 
Their  tracks  have  been  seen  in  the  snow  in  the  vine 
yard  close  to  our  house,  and  in  the  wood  opposite  ;  so 
that  even  when  the  weather  clears  up,  I  shall  be  afraid 
to  venture  beyond  the  garden  with  the  children. 

Last  week,  after  a  snow-storm  of  three  days,  the 
front  of  our  kiosk  was  entirely  walled  up  in  a  snow 
drift.  Every  window  of  our  little  drawing-room  was 
completely  darkened,  and  the  effect  of  fire  and  candle 
light  inside  was  most  curious,  reflected  on  the  white 
flakes  and  on  the  icicles.  Our  men  had  to  cut  their 
way  out  of  the  street-door,  and  sally  forth  in  quest 
of  a  whole  sheep ;  for  I  was  afraid  that  all  supplies 
might  be  cut  off  for  some  time.  The  only  white  bread 
to  be  got  is  made  at  Bebee,  a  village  on  the  European 
side ;  and,  as  all  communication  was  cut  off,  I  had  to 
put  everybody  on  rations.  My  mother  and  I  were  so 
afraid  of  eating  any  of  the  white  loaves,  that,  after  the 
storm  was  over  and  the  steamer  able  to  get  up  the 
Bosphorus  with  provisions,  we  had  three  left. 

My  husband  went  to  his  Court  at  Pera  on  Monday 
morning,  and  was  unable  either  to  come,  send,  or  even 
hear  of  us  until  the  Friday  following,  as  neither  caique 


WINTER.  497 

nor  steamer  could  venture  to  move  in  the  blinding 
sheet  of  snow  on  so  dangerous  and  rapid  a  stream,  with 
much  shipping  lying  about.  I  had  a  most  anxious 
and  trying  time,  with  about  as  wretchedly  helpless  a 
set  of  servants  as  it  is  possible  for  a  poor  mortal  to 
be  plagued  with.  I  got  Edmund's  tool-box,  fastened 
up  refractory  doors,  put  pegs  into  rattling  windows, 
shamed  them  into  clearing  snow  away  by  beginning 
to  do  it  myself,  and,  besides  taking  care  of  the  children 
day  and  night,  had  to  be  constantly  thinking  and  do 
ing  for  these  ladies  and  gentlemen. 

If  we  could  have  got  to  Pera,  we  should  have  done 
so ;  but  of  course  this  was  impossible,  and  nothing 
remained  but  to  weather  the  storm. 

Wood  and  charcoal  have  been  at  a  frightful  price 
all  the  winter.  In  the  autumn,  the  powers  that  be 
ordered  all  the  boat -loads  of  wood,  arriving  here  from 
all  parts  of  the  country,  to  sell  their  freights  at  so 
much  a  cheki,  filling  their  own  stores  ivith  it  at  that  price. 
The  poor  people  lost  by  it,  and  of  course  would  bring 
no  more ;  so  that  this  pretended  law  for  the  good  of 
the  people  has  caused  much  suffering. 

I  keep  one  good  wood  fire  all  day  in  the  dining- 
room,  for  the  children,  and  one  in  the  drawing-room, 
only  lighted  about  four  o'clock.  During  the  storm  we 
had  come  to  our  last  basket,  and  were  already  burning 
our  packing-cases — a  dreadful  state  of  suspense  to  be 
in !  Our  boatmen,  who  sleep  in  a  bath-room  a  short 
distance  from  the  house,  were  shut  up  and  obliged  to 
be  dug  out.  They  then  pushed  their  way  to  a  neigh 
bor,  and  borrowed  a  small  quantity  of  wood.  That 
night  all  the  sheep  of  this  and  many  other  villages 
42* 


498  IN   AND   AROUND   STAMBOUL. 

and  hundreds  of  oxen;  were  frozen  to  death,  to  the 
utter  ruin  of  many  poor  families. 

In  the  midst  of  the  howling  of  the  wind,  and  the 
constant  beating  of  sharp  snow  against  our  windows, 
the  fire -guns  on  the  hill  near  us  often  thundered  their 
alarm — three  or  four  fires  glaring  on  the  snow  in  one 
week  !  This  has  indeed  been  a  gloomy  winter ;  every 
thing  is  of  course  at  famine  price. 

I  tell  you  all  this,  my  dear  Mrs.  Austin,  as  you 
asked  to  know  all  about  us.  I  have  but  little  news  to 
tell  you.  beyond  what,  no  doubt,  Julia  has  recounted 
of  our  domestic  misfortunes,  in  not  being  able  to  get  a 
house,  and  in  being,  so  far  as  I  am  concerned,  tor 
mented,  beyond  all  that  you  have  heard,  or  could 
have  conceived,  by  the  airs  and  graces  and  helpless 
ness  of  the  English  servants  of  "high  character" 
whom  we  brought  here  with  us.  The  poor  Greeks, 
so  happy  with  us  before,  have  left  in  despair  and  dis 
gust  ;  so  that  when  we  go  to  our  new  house,  we  have 
to  get  others.  At  last  I  think  I  have  conquered  the 
English  ones,  and  that  we  shall  have  peace ;  even  with 
out  giving  Edmund's  groom  cold  woodcocks  for  his 
breakfast,  and  an  unlimited  supply  of  the  finest  loaf- 
sugar  for  his  green  tea. 

My  dear  children  are  quite  well ;  my  mother  is  a 
most  cheerful  and  faithful  companion  to  them.  She 
has  thoroughly  enjoyed  all  the  difficulties  of  this  ter 
rible  winter.  I  do  not  believe  any  thing  could  have 
pleased  her  so  much  ;  for  she  has  felt  how  necessary 
she  has  been  to  us  all,  and  how  dreary  I  should  have 
been  without  her.  My  husband  is  very  happy  in  the 
satisfactory  progress  of  his  new  Court:  I  see  but  little 
of  him,  except  at  dinner-time.  His  only  holiday  has 


REDSHID    PASHA. 


499 


been  a  shooting-party  to  a  village  in  Asia  Minor — a 
most  primitive  place,  where  he  stayed  three  or  four 
days,  -bringing  back  plenty  of  game,  and  part  of  a 
deer,  for  our  Christmns  dinner. 

The  death  of  Bedshid  Pasha  has  caused  much  real 
regret  here.  His  friends  strongly  suspect  that  bron 
chitis  had  but  little  to  do  with  it;  but  no  inquiries 
were  made,  and  he  was  buried  before  we,  living  in 
front  of  his  house,  had  heard  of  his  death. 

But  I  must  conclude,  dear  Mrs.  Austin.  My  letter 
will,  I  fear,  be  but  an  untidy  affair.  My  drawing-room 
is  filled  with  smoke  from  the  green  wood,  and  I  am 
obliged  to  write  in  the  children's  room,  where  they 
are  making  a  great  noise  with  their  father's  two 
spaniels,  driven  indoors  out  of  their  snow-covered 
houses. 


THE    END. 


IN     PRESS. 

A    NEW    HISTORY    OF 

THE  CONQUEST  OF  MEXICO, 

BT 

ROBERT  ANDERSON  WILSON, 

Counsellor-at-Law,  Author  of  "Mexico  and  its  Religion" 
"  The  California  Law  Reports,"  &c.,  &c. 


THIS  is  an  actual  history  of  that  remarkable  event — the  Cortez  Con 
quest  of  Mexico.  The  monkish  fables  which  constitute  the  staple  of 
all  previous  histories  of  that  wonderful  war,  have,  one  after  another, 
been  exploded  under  the  searching  processes  of  modern  investigation. 

The  late  Albert  Gallatin,  a  pioneer  in  Ethnology,  and  a  distinguished 
Cabinet  Minister,  in  a  most  learned  and  able  criticism,  pointed  out  the 
imposture  of  the  pretended  Aztec  picture  writings,  and  also  of  their 
alleged  annals,  as  proved  by  internal  evidence.  In  the  last  branch  of 
his  inquiry,  he  is  sustained  by  an  elaborate  article  from  the  pen  of 
Hon.  Lewis  Cass,  in  the  North  American  Review  of  Oct.,  1840. 

The  criticism  of  these  Cabinet  Ministers  has  lately  been  verified  by 
the  publication  of  the  American  army  maps  and  topographical  surveys, 
proving  the  physical  impossibilities  of  all  the  additions  to  the  personal 
narrative  of  Cortez,  in  which  is  included  the  elegant  history  Mr.  Pres- 
cott  has  culled  from  the  writings  of  the  Monks,  and  that  counterfeit 
narrative  entitled  Bernal  Diaz. 

The  statement  furnished  by  Cortez,  when  stripped  of  Moorish  em 
bellishments,  necessary  perhaps  to  fit  it  for  the  Spanish  market  of  his 
day,  and  presented  in  the  light  of  American  Archaeology,  is  one  of  the 
most  remarkable  events  in  the  history  of  this  Continent,  far  surpassing 
in  interest  the  fables  which  have  heretofore  been  palmed  off  aa  the 
history  of  that  war. 

The  Author's  relation  to  the  Indians,  his  personal  acquaintance 
with  the  people  of  Mexico  of  both  races,  and  his  careful  examination 
of  the  topography  of  that  country,  have  afforded  him  every  opportunity 
to  write  a  correct  and  reliable  history  of  the  conquest  of  that  country 
by  Cortez. 

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EUROPEAN  LIFE,  LEGEND,  AND  LANDSCAPE, 

BY    AN    ARTIST. 


The  character  of  this  work  can  be  determined  by  the  following 
TABLE     OF     CONTENTS. 


i.  Land-ho! 

xxiv.  The  Sceptic  Convert 

ii.  New  Haven  (England). 

ed  —  a   Legend  of 

in.  An  English  Eailway. 

Petersthal. 

iv.  First  Impressions. 

xxv.  Rolandseck. 

v.  Art  in  London. 

xxvi.  The  Dampschiff. 

vi.  The  London  Parks. 

xxvn.  Coblentz. 

vn.  Metropolitan     Amuse 

xxvni.  Knapsack  and  Staff. 

ments. 

xxix.  GoldenerPropfenzier 

vin.  London  Churches. 

xxx.  Oberwessel. 

ix.  Westminster  Abbey. 

xxxi.  Sunday      Night     in 

x.  Parlez  vous  Anglais. 

Prussia. 

xi.  Bruges. 

xxxn.  Bacharach. 

xn.  The  Glove  of  Charles  Y. 

xxxin.  A  Rencontre. 

xni.  Eubens. 

xxxiv.  The  Odenwald. 

xiv.  How  a  Woman  Died. 

xxxv.  The  Diligence. 

xv.  Brussels. 

xxxvi.  The  Alps. 

xvi.  The  Meuse. 

xxxvn.  Chillon. 

xvn.  Aix-la-Chapelle. 

xxxvni.  The   Bernese    Ober- 

xvin.  Charlemagne. 

land—  The     Wen- 

xix.  The  Grand  Eeliques. 

gern  Alp 

xx.  The  Ring  of  Fastrada. 

xxxix.  The  Bernese    Ober- 

XXL  Koln. 

laud—  The    Great 

xxn.  Dusseldorf. 

Scheideck. 

xxiii.  The  Seven  Mountains. 

XL.  L'Envoy. 

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READY  IN  JULY,  1858, 


a#t  autr 

BY  REV.  HENRY  S,  OSBORN,  A.  M. 

«•» 

THIS  work  is  the  result  of  recent  researches  in  Palestine  and  a 
portion  of  Syria.  It  embraces  the  NATURAL,  SCIENTIFIC, 
CLASSICAL,  AND  HISTORICAL  FEATURES  of  this,  the  most 
interesting  of  all  lands,  and  identifies  and  illustrates  many  Scrip 
tural  passages  hitherto  unnoticed. 

It  will  be  Illustrated  by  Engravings  from  NEW  AND  ORIGINAL  DE 
SIGNS,  executed  in  the  highest  style  of  art.  The  Publishers  will 
spare  no  expense  in  their  department  of  the  work.  The  Engrav 
ings  will  consist  of  a  PANORAMIC  SERIES  OF  ORIGINAL  VIEWS,  taken 
by  the  Author  from  the  most  favorable  positions ;  giving  to  the 
Reader  a  perfect  conception  of  the  Cities,  Villages,  Architecture  of 
the  Country,  and  Landscape  Scenery  of  the  East.  Also,  Engravings 
of  birds,  flowers,  ancient  coins,  the  geological  strata — comprising 
its  fossils,  minerals,  &c.  ;  with  the  costumes,  positions,  and  pecu 
liarities  of  the  people.  The  Illustrations  will  consist  of  splendid 
Chromographs  (printed  in  ten  rich  oil  colors),  Tinted  Lithographs, 
and  the  finest  Wood  Engravings. 

A  NEW  MAP  OF  PALESTINE,  by  the  Author,  from  actual  surveys, 
and  differing  essentially  from  any  that  has  yet  appeared,  will  accom 
pany  the  work. 

The  Literary  Department  will  embrace  scientific  and  critical  exa 
minations  of  facts  as  associated  with  the  scenes  presented,  with  a 
view  to  the  elucidation  of  disputed  points  of  Scripture.  Also,  per 
sonal  observations  made  during  a  sojourn  in  the  East ;  giving  social, 
religious,  and  political  incidents,  just  as  they  occur  among  all 
classes.  An  invaluable  amount  of  information  will  thus  be  concen 
trated  into  the  most  perfectly  illustrated  work  on  the  subject  extant. 

This  work  will  be  a  valuable  companion  to  "THE  CITY  OF  THE 
GREAT  KING,"  as  the  Author  will  devote  special  attention  to  the 
Land  of  Palestine ;  referring  the  reader  to  Dr.  Barclay's  work  for 
full  information  in  reference  to  the  Holy  City. 

The  Views  will  be  truthful  and  accurate,  and  will  not  be  trans 
fers  from  other  works,  nor  libellous  caricatures  of  Sacred  Locali 
ties,  as  at  present  abound  in  nearly  every  work  on  the  subject. 

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